A Legend of Starfire

by Marissa Burt

  Do not be afraid, the Crooked Man said as though he was aware of her very thoughts. You fear what you are, but take courage. The scene shifted into empty space, where a box floated in darkness. Instantly, Wren knew that the box represented her: all her fears and emotions—the anger and worry, and joy and happiness, too—that she had been terrified would get out of control again. Take courage. Open the box.

  Wren shook her head. She didn’t want to open the box. She didn’t want the kind of power that came from stardust, didn’t want to keep hurting people like that. The image of the moment when she killed the hovercat, made even worse by the knowledge that they didn’t want to be predators, flashed through her mind. Then came the heart-stopping second when Jack’s falcon tumbled down to its death, like a movie clip on replay. And finally, the scene she’d relived a thousand times, when her defensive rhyme had sent Jack’s magic shooting back at him, and left her friend nearly dead on the floor.

  I don’t want it, she thought. I don’t want the stardust. And then she knew. She wasn’t burned out. She wasn’t losing the magic. She had simply blocked herself from using it, and perhaps she was okay with that.

  The Crooked Man showed her a pendulum, a ball of rainbow light swinging from one side to the other, arcing through the darkness with slivers of color. Some have embraced the power of the stardust with no thought for restraint. The pendulum swung one way, and Wren knew the Crooked Man was speaking of Boggen and the Magicians who never limited their power. But denying this gift out of fear chokes out the good as well as the bad. The pendulum swung back, and Maya’s face came into Wren’s mind. She thought of the way the Outsiders hated stardust and lived a life-or-death existence that rejected any possible good that could come from magic.

  Neither unrestrained power nor crippling fear will serve you well. The pendulum swung back and forth, filling the darkness with the regular rhythm of the rainbow. Wren thought she understood what he was saying, but she still felt frightened.

  Do not be afraid. Open the box.

  The box was back, sitting alone in the middle of the darkness with a thick velvety ribbon tied around it in a nearly perfect bow. Wren took a deep breath and willed the box open. The bow unraveled, and the box disappeared, leaving behind a gemstone clear as crystal and radiant with light.

  Stardust is a gift. Being a Weather Changer is a gift. The gem pulsed with light. You are a gift, Wren. I’ve freed you for a purpose. Take my starfire and wield it as only you can, that you, too, might make all things well. As Wren began to believe it might be true, that what she was might actually be a gift she could offer to the world, she felt the tightness in her chest melt away. The place deep inside of her, the same place that had first believed the Crooked Man, stirred to life. As though it were a scene playing out before her, she saw how she could weave the starfire into a cleansing stream, how that was what the Ashes meant when they said the Crooked Man would show her what to do at the right time. Hot tears leaked from her closed eyelids. Life and warmth and emotion were returning to her. The fear and worry over what might go wrong was dissipating, and the deeply felt song of joy was replacing it. Thank you. Oh, thank you. She opened her eyes wide to look at the Crooked Man, but he was gone. The entire scene had disappeared, and she woke in the early morning light, alone by the ashes of Simon’s long-dead fire.

  She would have thought it had all been an invention of her overactive imagination but for the feeling in her chest. The connection to Boggen was, in truth, gone, and the fearful box she had held on to for so long had been replaced with a sense of peace. She sat up, looking over at Simon’s sleeping form, wondering if she should wake him and tell him her good news. As she did, she felt something heavy in one of her pockets. She stuck a tentative hand inside and fished out a jagged, clear gemstone filled with a liquid that danced with flames of fire. It had most definitely not been an invention of her imagination.

  She decided not to tell Simon about the dream. She cradled the starfire stone in both palms. She wanted to keep the treasure the Crooked Man had given her for herself. Perhaps, like her magic, she would know in time how to share it with others.

  NINETEEN

  Animals, animals, huge and gray,

  Open your mouth and gently bray.

  Lift your ears and blow your horn,

  To wake the world this sleepy morn.

  The stillness of the morning was broken by the sound of contented murmurs from a nearby flock of animachines that looked like sheep more than anything else. Now, with her fresh perspective, Wren wondered how she could ever have been frightened of them at all. She rose, stretching, and left to get some water. The valley was surprisingly peaceful, with a gentle breeze ruffling her hair and the soft lowing of the sheeplike animachines as they began feeding on the spongy ground cover. Wren walked for some time, soaking up the stillness of the morning and opening her eyes to the alien beauty of Nod.

  Wren wondered how different the history of Nod could have been if it had been founded on peace instead of domination. As she made her way past one of the rocky outcroppings, she stopped, frozen in place by what she saw. There, etched into the pillar on Nod as surely as it had been back in the city, was a bird in flight, the symbol of the Outsiders. What would the Outsiders have marked way out here in the middle of nowhere?

  Wren bent down, running her fingers over the symbol. It didn’t look old or weathered; it must have been relatively freshly cut. She traced the path of the markings, following the series of birds as they led her through the rocky spires to the other side of the valley. There, she lost track of the markings, but the ground led upward in a swell that looked out onto the next valley. Wren climbed it, seeing in the distance what must be the Outsiders’ island. As she crested the hill, she gave a little cry of surprise when she saw the low building that crouched on the other side. She had seen it once before, back in the dream where Robin had brought Wren to her laboratory. There it was: Robin’s hidden lab!

  Inside, Robin’s lab was in disarray. Wren pulled one of the matches she had pilfered from Maya’s hut from her pocket and struck it against the wall to light it. Tools were scattered across the tabletops. The ashes in the dish Robin had so conscientiously kept filled had long since gone cold. Wren righted a chair that had toppled over, bending closer to note a set of drag marks on the floor. She drew the match closer, following them. Had someone taken Robin from the room by force? The tracks led outside the small hut and to a cave hidden from sight by a large outcropping of purplevine. Wren hacked at the plant, shredding its ropy stalks until she could push her way into a cavern that pulsed with an unnatural glow.

  The whole thing had been meticulously modified to house a giant apparatus hanging from the center of the roof. The semicircle hung within a frame of connected triangles, and flares of sickly stardust flashed and sparked across its surface like bolts of lightning. Beneath a glass dome, the apparatus was honeycombed with a million carved niches, but it wasn’t those that drew her eye. It was the figure hanging from a harness in one of the triangles.

  “Robin!” Wren cried, rushing forward to stand below the girl. Robin’s form was still and motionless. “Robin?” The girl gave off a small snore. She was fast asleep. Wren scanned the room. There was nothing for it but to climb up herself. Bracing herself against one of the triangular frames, Wren saw that it would hold her weight. She pushed off with one foot, boosting herself up, and swung over to the next. The first few were easy, but the higher she climbed, the more dizzy she felt. Her breath came in quick gasps, and she felt a curious spinning sensation whenever she looked down. But with one final push, and a painful swing over to the triangle just below her sleeping friend, she was able to reach Robin’s boot.

  “Robin!” Wren jiggled her foot. “Wake up.”

  Robin’s snoring cut off and she mumbled something unintelligible. Wren yanked harder on her foot. That did the trick. Robin woke, looking around bleary-eyed.

  “Where am I?” she murmured, and then, catching sight of Wren: “Hurr
y! You must leave the dream! She’ll find you!”

  Wren was baffled. “I’m here in real life, Robin. You’ve been asleep.”

  “But how?” Robin’s eyes were wide open now. “I just left you in the dream. We were in my lab.” She looked around her, panic crossing her face as she realized things were not as she expected. “You’re here on Nod?” She began struggling then, her harness swinging wildly as she worked to get free.

  “Hold. On.” Wren grunted, maneuvering herself up another frame so she was nearly level with Robin. She saw that Robin’s harness held her fast with buckles. She began pulling on the straps, starting with Robin’s wrists, so the girl could help free herself.

  “How long have I been asleep?” Robin asked, deftly loosening the bonds around her ankles.

  “A week? Maybe two?” Wren guessed. She had lost track of the days since she’d arrived in Nod. “Wait. You’re telling me that you’ve been asleep this entire time?”

  “And you’re telling me that you’re surprised?” Robin slipped off the final bond, and moved her muscles with a groan. “By now you have to know she’d do anything to stop me.”

  Wren watched open-mouthed as Robin easily maneuvered her way across the triangular frames and swung down to the ground with a grunt. She rubbed her back. “All that sleep has made me weak.”

  Wren worked hard to imitate Robin’s descent, and her questions came in short bursts. “Who’s trying to stop you?” She swung from one bar to another. “And why have they imprisoned you here?” Wren slipped and dangled wildly by one hand before finding her grip. “Wherever here is.”

  “One of Mother Goose’s secret laboratories,” Robin said from the ground. “We thought they’d all been destroyed, but we were wrong.”

  “Mother Goose?” Wren dropped to the ground and stared around her wonderingly. “Someone found one of her old labs and stuck you in here? But why?”

  “Not someone,” Robin said, giving Wren a curious look. “Mother Goose herself imprisoned me.”

  “Mother Goose is alive?”

  Robin barked a laugh. “Oh, she’s alive. And well hidden, right in the middle of the Outsider camp. No wonder we all thought she was dead.” Robin was attacking the purplevines with a vengeance, but it was obvious she was weakened from her captivity.

  “Here. Let me,” Wren said, retracing the path she had made coming in. “So Mother Goose is one of the Outsiders?” Wren wiped the sweat off her forehead. The remarkably resilient purplevines were already growing back together.

  “Mother Goose is the Outsider. Maya herself.”

  Wren stopped cold. “Maya?” She gaped at Robin. “But she hates stardust.”

  “Exactly.” Robin pushed past her and stepped into the daylight. “That’s why she was so upset when she found out that I’d contacted the Alchemists and other Magicians. I thought we could all work together, but Maya can’t stand the thought of compromise. She’s too stuck on what happened back during the plague. For her, the only solution is to destroy all the magic on Nod.” She rubbed her forehead. “She’s even sending nightmares to scare people out of using the magic.”

  “Mother Goose is the one sending the nightmares?” What Robin said made sense. It fit in with what Maya had already done in sneaking around trying to empty Boggen’s wells. She told Robin what she knew.

  Robin snorted. “It doesn’t surprise me. For all her talk of courage and honor, I’d wager Maya’s the most fearful of them all.”

  Wren nodded. She thought of what the Crooked Man had said, how the pendulum could swing too far toward fear and paralysis. They were back at Robin’s lab now, and Robin was already talking about all she needed to do. Making contact with her supporters in the city. Finding out how things stood with Boggen. Discovering the location of his stronghold.

  “It’s to the east,” Wren said in a quiet voice. “Near obsidian mountains.”

  Robin stared at her, mouth hanging open for a second before she said, “How can you possibly know that?”

  Self-consciously at first and then more confidently, Wren told her story: how Boggen had plagued her nightmares and waking dreams, how he had marked her as his apprentice and tried to summon her in such a way that she could pinpoint his location.

  “I don’t know for sure it’s his stronghold, but it’s as good a place to start as any.”

  Robin was eyeing her warily. “But if you know where he is, what’s to say he doesn’t know exactly where you are?”

  Wren laughed. Of course Robin would be worried. She had heard only half the story. “I forgot the most important part!” She described how the Crooked Man had freed her, though words failed her when she tried to explain the starfire’s magic.

  Robin’s eyes grew wider and wider with each new revelation until Wren got to the part about the river of starfire. She whistled and sat down on a wobbly stool. “That’s amazing,” she breathed. “So the legends about him . . .”

  “The legends are true,” Wren said. Now that she had told her tale, she felt a little wobbly inside, as though she had let Robin see into her very soul. She fought the old temptation to shut down and hide away. “I think they’ve been misinterpreted. Starfire will destroy Nod, but only the things that need destroying.”

  Robin nodded. “Like refining metals. You heat them up so hot that the impurities come to the surface, where you can remove them.”

  “That’s exactly what it was like.” Wren nodded slowly.

  “So where is the Crooked Man? How do we get him to come use his starfire on the tainted stardust?”

  Wren paled a little and joined Robin on the stool next to her. “He sent me,” she said simply, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. She, who had just admitted to once being Boggen’s apprentice, was now the one Robin was supposed to trust.

  To Robin’s credit, she didn’t even hesitate. She didn’t ask Wren how she planned to do it, or whether she really thought it would work, and Robin’s faith in her bolstered Wren’s own faith in herself.

  “Okay,” Robin said, turning around and shoving papers across the tables. “There are several mountain ranges to the east. Maybe if we find the right map, you’ll be able to—”

  “Wait,” Wren said, looking at all the Dreamopathy equipment. “Can you show me how to use this?”

  Robin did not waste any time when she heard that Wren meant to contact Jack, a spy among Boggen’s forces. “That’s very dangerous.” There was admiration in Robin’s voice. She opened a hidden container of stardust and carefully weighed it out, setting the Dreamopathy compass spinning. Soon, a mirrorlike surface—much bigger than the one Wren had managed the other night—shimmered in front of them.

  Jack’s startled face appeared shortly afterward. It was wet, and Wren could see fresh bruises.

  “We found him when he was awake,” Robin said. “This will be trickier to maintain.” She hurried back to the compass.

  “Jack!” Wren rushed toward him. “Are you all right?”

  Jack looked over his shoulder nervously. “You shouldn’t be here, Wren. Boggen could come in at any moment.” He leaned close. “It’s bad. They’ve started experimenting on Cole and Mary. It’s really bad, Wren.”

  Wren gasped. “Did you find out where the stronghold is?”

  Jack winked, and a flicker of his old liveliness crossed his face. “I sure did, but it cost me my freedom. They’ve brought me to it now.” His mouth twisted. “Boggen wasn’t happy with my snooping. I’m his prisoner, too, Wren.”

  “Oh, no!” Wren exclaimed. “We’ll be there soon, Jack. We’ll rescue you.”

  “Where is the stronghold?” Robin’s voice was sharp, all her attention focused on Jack, who rattled off some foreign-sounding locations.

  Robin snatched a map off a crowded table and began marking things. “Beyond the illuminated lakes. Near the Valley of the Shadow. Okay. Got it.”

  “Don’t lose hope, Jack!” Wren pleaded with her friend. She was worried by the frantic look on his face, the way he reminded her of a
trapped animal. “Help is coming.”

  Jack gave her a weary but hopeful look before the mirror shimmered and disappeared into thin air.

  When he had gone, Wren was eager to get back to Simon, but Robin had other ideas.

  “I’ve got to contact Winter,” she said, hurriedly preparing the ingredients for another Dreamopathy rhyme. “Going back to the city to find her will take too much time.”

  Wren saw that she was right and moved close, studying the practiced way she used the equipment. Robin was clearly a skilled Fiddler, and soon Winter’s surprised face appeared in front of them.

  “Robin!” Winter cried. “Where have you been?”

  “Time for that later,” Robin said, impatiently waving away her question. “Your work in the city. Have you gathered anti-Boggen crew members?”

  Winter’s face was all business. “The citizens of Nod are growing tired of Boggen’s tyranny. Many still don’t believe us, but at last count we had nearly two hundred who stand with us, ready for your command.”

  Wren did a double-take at Robin. Who was this girl? Why was Winter, who had seemed so in charge back at the rally, deferring to her? And why would two hundred full Fiddlers be prepared to follow someone so young?

  But, as Robin had said, there would be time for questions later. Besides, Winter wanted to know more about the location of Boggen’s stronghold. Wren described what she had seen in as much detail as possible, though without the long explanation of how she knew. Winter would gather her crew and meet them at the Valley of the Shadow as soon as they could march from the city. Robin had a few other instructions for Winter as well, which Winter accepted with curious deference, and then the interview was over.