The Star Shepherd

by Dan Haring

  Salban gave Kyro an appraising look. “As a general rule, I dislike Star Shepherds on principle. Your Council and your father are exactly why.” She cracked her knuckles, making Kyro jump. “But I like you, boy. I’ll let you stay on until Drenn. You’ve been through enough, and we’re halfway there anyway. What’s your name?”

  Kyro’s eyes were wide. “My name is Kyro.”

  “Well, Kyro of Drenn,” Salban clasped his hand in her leathery grip. “Welcome to The Celestine.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The captain introduced Kyro to the first mate, Sully—the same man who had found him in the cargo hold—properly this time. The man shook Kyro’s hand and smiled, showing a few blackened teeth.

  “Well done, boy.”

  “We’ll reach Drenn in a couple hours, just before dawn,” Captain Salban said. “Until then, you can tell me more about what’s plaguing the stars.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kyro said.

  “I prefer Salban.”

  Whether Kyro liked it or not, he was going to have to trust her with more of his secrets. It was a fair price. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if the captain changed her mind about letting him remain aboard The Celestine.

  She brought Kyro to the railing of the ship where they could see the stars bobbing over the horizon. The boat rocked, and the sea churned beneath them. Cypher barked and chased the gulls around the deck while the captain looked on, amused, as she leaned against the railing.

  “Now, tell me, what was so urgent that your father had to leave? What made him think someone’s taking the stars?” She glanced at the sky, and Kyro couldn’t help thinking that she seemed nervous.

  “One night we noticed that a star’s burlap case had been sliced open. Usually when they fall off the hooks, they leave a jagged tear.” Kyro’s heart chilled at the memory. “It was like someone had cut it down instead.”

  Salban’s brow furrowed. “No one alive can reach the stars. Unless you catapulted them up there, but the ride down would be a death sentence.”

  “Exactly. My father reported it to the Council immediately, but they thought nothing of it. And when he got home, he told me that other Star Shepherds had reported seeing dark shadow creatures called the vissla.”

  She stood up straight. “What?”

  “They’re shadow creatures, and—”

  “Yes, yes, I know what the vissla are. There’ve been sightings of them? They’re returning?” Alarm filled her face.

  “I’ve seen them myself.”

  She stepped closer. “You’re serious? What was it like?”

  Kyro gazed out at the waves lapping the sides of the ship and swallowed hard. “It was cold, like it radiated pure evil. One of them got to a star before me, and the vissla killed it.”

  Salban leaned back on her elbows. “And those fools at the Council ignored that?” She scowled. “Idiots. So certain nothing will change that by the time they realize they’re wrong, it’ll be far too late.”

  “That’s not all,” Kyro said. “My father only took off after two clusters of stars fell in one night. We couldn’t go after the first. It was far away in the Radamak Mountains, but the second was right in our woods. When we reached them, all that remained were smoking craters. Someone had stolen every single star. We couldn’t rescue any of them.” His eyes burned at the memory.

  Salban gasped. “You told this to the Council too?”

  “Of course. I had to justify why my father left.” Kyro decided to leave out the fact that his father had cried wolf to the Council a few too many times, which was why they hadn’t taken his father’s or his own claims seriously.

  “And they still did nothing?”

  “They did something,” Kyro said. “They banned me and my father from saving the stars.” A bitter taste formed in the back of his throat.

  “Then they’ve grown stupider with age.”

  A thought nagged at Kyro. “How do you know so much about the Council and Star Shepherds? No one else I’ve met has had a clue what the vissla are.”

  Salban’s eyes glinted. “It’s time for me to tell you a story now.”

  She told him tale after tale he had never heard before. He doubted even his father knew them. Kyro examined Salban while Cypher snoozed in his lap. She appeared to be merely a ship’s captain, but she was very knowledgeable about the stars. Her connection to them had to be far more personal than she was willing to let on. He wished his father could meet her.

  “How do you know all these stories?” Kyro asked. He’d been trying to hold his curiosity inside, but he was ready to burst. “Were you a Star Shepherd once?”

  Salban laughed. “Not exactly. But you could say it’s in my blood. I come from a long line of them. These stories were passed down through my family.”

  Kyro frowned. “Why are you so hard on the Council then?”

  Salban’s face grew more serious. “Not all Star Shepherds favor the Council, and as you’ve seen for yourself, the Council doesn’t favor all Star Shepherds either. You could say my family had something of a falling-out with them long ago.” She straightened up, with a new glint in her eyes. “Now, have you heard the one about the descendants of the Seven Elders?” Salban asked.

  “No, I don’t know it.”

  “When the Elders sent their hearts into the sky, their fame lasted only for a few hundred years. People became accustomed to safety and forgot all about the dangers of the dark creatures the stars held back. The world’s belief in their power dwindled, and the legend of the Seven Elders was relegated to bedtime stories and campfires.

  “But the descendants of the Seven Elders carried the flame of knowledge as best they could in the face of the world’s lack of faith. Until even some of the descendants’ children began to doubt. The descendants knew they couldn’t let the knowledge of the stars die out. They had to do something. They devised a way to prolong their lives by splicing a piece of their own hearts with a star. As long as the star remained hanging in the skies, that descendant would continue to live on.”

  Kyro’s mouth dropped open. “Those stars must have all fallen by now, haven’t they?”

  Salban shrugged. “I’d expect so, but who knows? There are thousands of stars. Eventually they formed the Star Shepherd Council to ensure the secrets of the stars were passed down from generation to generation, and that their protection would be of paramount importance.”

  Kyro scratched his head. “Well, what happened to—”

  “Land ho!” cried a sailor on the other side of the ship. Kyro stood up from the railing.

  The village of Drenn could be seen by starlight, getting closer every second. Kyro frowned. Something looked odd about the port. He ran to the other side of the bow and leaned out over the railing to see better. Sea spray spattered his chin.

  “What is it?” Salban sauntered over. Cypher whined at Kyro’s side.

  Kyro squinted. Something was obscuring his vision of the port, and he couldn’t quite figure out—

  “It’s smoking. The port is smoking.” he said.

  Salban sat up immediately. “Sully! Fire up the engines right now!” Her command was met with a few concerned looks, but no hesitation. The boat began to move through the water at a faster pace. Kyro’s heart had frozen. He hoped against hope that what he thought might be happening was not the case.

  The boat finally reached a spot where they had a full view of the port, straight up the hill to the market square.

  The cause of the smoke was suddenly all too clear.

  Something had set all of Drenn ablaze.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kyro stood frozen at the railing, transfixed by the sight before him. He couldn’t even utter the cry strangled in his chest. The center of the town glowed like a beacon, with flames of yellow and orange shooting up here and there. Smoke billowed over the docks like a d
ark cloud creeping across the water toward them.

  “Here,” Captain Salban said, startling Kyro back to life. She held a bandanna out to him and then tied her own over her nose. “You don’t want to breathe that in.” She called over her shoulder to the crew. “Hurry up and ready the rowboat. We can’t dock here yet, or we risk going up in flames too.”

  “But what about—” Kyro began.

  “Don’t worry.” Salban put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get you home and see what we can salvage.”

  She pushed him toward the side of the ship, Cypher close at their heels, and helped him clamber into the rowboat. Two other sailors joined them with supplies and buckets, and took up the remaining oars. Unlike the steamship, the rowboat was not fitted with clockwork upgrades to help it move faster. But the crew took The Celestine as close as they could to the shore before Salban shouted to Sully to lower them to the water. The rowboat jerked and halted on its way down, making Kyro’s stomach flip. Cypher whined, and Kyro wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the dog’s fur.

  Then they hit the water, and the sailors rowed, the boat gliding through the waves and the thick smoke. Kyro’s eyes burned, and he was grateful for Salban’s quick thinking with the bandanna. The trip would have been a hundred times worse without it.

  It was hard to see, but the sailors knew their route well. The boat bumped against the dock much faster than Kyro had dared to hope. Salban helped him out of the boat, and he set Cypher on the dock beside him. “Stay close,” he whispered to his dog.

  The fire was focused mainly in the market area. Villagers ran to and fro, desperately trying to extinguish the buildings that had been set alight.

  Andra.

  Kyro’s feet had begun to move, when Salban pulled him back.

  “Where do you think you’re going without a bucket? Do you expect to put out the fire just by telling it to behave?” The captain shoved a bucket into his hands. “Here, fill this up.”

  The other sailors were dipping their buckets in the ocean, then heaving them up. Kyro followed suit and soon trailed the others as they rushed into the marketplace. Chaos reigned, along with light and heat and smoke. It was disorienting. Kyro might very well have gotten lost if not for Salban once again pointing him in the right direction.

  “See that building over there?” She gestured to the butcher’s shop. “Let’s work on that first. It’s on the edges of the fire. We have to beat this back.”

  Kyro could hear the fire hissing on the other side of the square as water from a hose hit the flames. He and the sailors ran back and forth to the dock several times, quenching as many buildings on the fringes as they could. The fire finally sputtered out, meeting its end from the suffocating hose.

  The first rays of dawn spread across the sky, erasing the stars from view. Kyro had seen the dawn many, many times of course, but this time it felt different. Like he wasn’t sure how many of those stars would remain when night fell again.

  Behind them on the docks, The Celestine was moored, groaning and creaking and drawing attention. When the villagers saw Kyro, murmurs and scowls filled the crowd. A familiar figure burst through the ranks, hurling himself at Kyro before he had a chance to react.

  Bodin, red-faced and livid, yanked Kyro off the ground by the collar of his shirt. Cypher barked and tugged at the hem of Kyro’s pants, but Bodin didn’t seem to notice.

  “You!” Bodin sputtered. “This is all your fault! This is your doing! You and your father’s treachery. We’ve lost four shops, burned to ash, and it’s all thanks to you.”

  Kyro’s mouth hung slack in shock as Bodin shook him. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, boy?”

  “Leave him alone!” Andra—who Kyro hadn’t even noticed approaching—shoved her father from behind. “He wasn’t even here. He had nothing to do with the fire.”

  “Get back, Andra,” Bodin growled. “Or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your days. I’ve had enough of your infatuation with this fool boy.”

  Andra’s face turned beet red. “I will do no such thing. You put him down right now, or I’ll never talk to you again!”

  “I swear, sir, I had nothing to do with the fire. I was on a ship. We were just trying to help when we got here.”

  Bodin shook Kyro again for good measure. “Stop lying. You know this is all on your and your father’s heads.”

  To Kyro’s great surprise, Captain Salban laid a hand on Bodin’s arm. “Bodin,” she said quietly. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Why don’t you put the boy down? I can vouch for him. He was with me all night, and we were together when we saw the fire from the bow of my ship. Whatever you think he did, it wasn’t him.”

  Bodin’s face shifted from rage to shock, and then, most surprising of all, to sheepish acceptance. He set Kyro’s feet back on the ground and released his shirt. Andra ran over to Kyro and hugged him fiercely; he hugged her back in a daze.

  “Salban?” Bodin said. “It’s really you?”

  “In the flesh. Though I didn’t expect to find you bullying a mere boy.” She put her hands on her hips, and Bodin took a step back under her gaze. Behind him, the murmurs in the crowd began to transform to angry grumbles.

  “Things have changed. Ever since that boy”—he pointed at Kyro—“and his father came to Drenn, they have caused nothing but mischief. And tonight they nearly destroyed our livelihood.”

  “A Star Shepherd and his son? What could they possibly have done?”

  “Nothing!” Andra cried, clenching her fists. “Nothing at all.”

  But the swelling crowd did not seem to agree with Andra. Something hot and urgent formed in Kyro’s gut as they began to yell.

  “It’s him! He did it!” cried a villager.

  “He brought the sky down on our heads!” yelled another.

  Salban shook her head. “What on earth happened here, Bodin? Explain yourself right now.”

  “It was the stars. That’s why we believe he had something to do with the fire.”

  Kyro frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Bodin turned his eyes to him as if he had forgotten Kyro was even there. “A whole slew of them crashed right here in the market. Set the rooftops ablaze. We’re lucky no one was killed.”

  The villagers’ cries grew louder, and the crowd steadily inched closer. Kyro couldn’t help drawing back and bumped into Salban. Then another familiar face pushed his way to the front of the crowd and stood at Kyro’s side. This time it was one Kyro was relieved to see: Doman, possibly the only person in Drenn who actually liked his father.

  “Bodin, you fool. Star Shepherds don’t control the stars; they just rescue them,” Doman said.

  Salban barked a laugh. “Is that what they all believe?” She glared at the crowd. “Kyro and his father haven’t a clue when a star will fall. If they did, do you think they’d actually stay up all night every night just to watch the skies for fun?” She scoffed. “And now you’ve got them whipped into a frenzy about it.”

  “Kyro, we need to leave,” Doman said as the crowd began to move closer.

  But the second Kyro turned toward the docks, the crowd roared and the villagers lurched toward him.

  “Don’t let him get away!”

  “Someone has to pay for this destruction!”

  Cold fear froze Kyro to the bone.

  “Oh, come on, you big fool,” Salban admonished Bodin. “Help us get him out of here. There’s a riot about to break out, thanks to you.”

  Bodin’s face turned red, but his expression was one Kyro hadn’t seen on him before: regret.

  Doman grabbed Kyro by the arm, bringing him back to his senses, while Bodin, cowed by Salban, hurried them down an alleyway as villagers poured after them. Andra sprinted ahead of her father, anticipating where he was taking them. They wound through alleys until Kyro was dizzy. Then finally t
hey found themselves on a street that was quiet and empty—for now. The shouts of the villagers were not very far behind.

  “We should go to my house,” Doman said. “It’s nearby.”

  “Why?” Kyro asked.

  Doman paused as the eyes of Salban and her sailors appraised him. “Because I have information there about your father.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kyro yanked his arm out of Doman’s grasp. “What are you talking about?”

  The large man shifted from foot to foot. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

  Captain Salban rolled her eyes, but nudged Kyro toward Doman. “Go,” she said. “We’ll keep the villagers away. Get to safety.”

  With a last look back at the others, especially Andra, Kyro set off with Doman, following him down the alley toward his cottage on the edge of the village. Before long, the cottage and its metal roof came into view. Doman held the door open, checking to be sure they weren’t followed by any of the other villagers. Kyro ducked inside with Cypher at his heels.

  The inside of the cottage was filled with ironwork in much the same way Kyro’s home was filled with clockwork. There was a metal table with wrought-iron legs and crafted chairs next to it, and metal sconces illuminated the room. Doman offered one of the chairs, but a frenetic energy now possessed Kyro. Doman had information about his father. Sitting was impossible.

  “Wait here,” Doman said as he hurried into a back room. When he returned, he was carrying a rucksack. Kyro eyed it curiously.

  “Well?” Kyro said. “What do you know about what happened to my father?”

  Doman sank into one of the metal chairs, rubbing his hands over his craggy face. “I’m sorry, Kyro. I lied when you came to my shop and asked if I’d seen Tirin. He explicitly instructed me not to tell you anything.”

  Kyro’s knees turned to rubber. He sat quietly on a chair, his face twisting. What had he done to make his father mistrust him so? He’d tried to be a good son; he’d done everything Tirin asked of him. He’d sat by and watched as his father spiraled deeper and deeper into his obsession and farther and farther away from his son’s reach.