Fallen Star

by Steven Drake

  When she finally calmed herself, she knocked at the door. She heard footsteps, and then the door opened. She tried to smile as innocently as possible. His hair was still dripping wet. He had changed into the clothes that had been laid out for him, but they seemed entirely too wet as well. Had he even bothered to dry himself at all?

  “Are you all right?” Darien asked.

  “Oh, oh yes, I’m fine.” Miri looked away. “I just wanted to check to make sure you were well. You seemed weak earlier so I…”

  “Yes, Lady Mirisa, I’m quite alright. Was there something you needed?”

  To Miri’s considerable relief, he smiled, something of a false, patronizing smile, but still he didn’t seem angry. Thankfully, there was no indication he had noticed her spying.

  “You’re welcome to use the room for tonight, if you don’t want to walk all the way back to your house, er… cave, whatever you call it.”

  “Yes, I think I will accept the offer.” Darien started to shut the door.

  “Good night,” Miri added. “I’ll wake you in the morning for your session.”

  “Yes, thank you. Good night Lady Mirisa,” Darien said and shut the door.

  Darien seemed calmer, more at peace than she had seen in several days, perhaps the calmest since he had awakened from his long sleep. Strange that it should come after an evening of battle.

  Miri felt the events of the day catching up to her. She desperately needed sleep. She wandered up the stairs, changed into her night clothes, and collapsed on the bed, asleep as soon as she hit the pillow.

  Chapter 19: Old Dreams and New Hopes

  Mirisa woke to the sensation of warm sunlight on her face, streaming in the window of her upstairs room, followed by a gentle throbbing in her temples. She groaned, stretched, then massaged her aching forehead. Too much drink and too much worry had taken their toll. She lay still for several minutes, allowing the events of the previous evening to sink in for a second time, numbing herself to the familiar fear, the knowledge that Zandrek had found her again.

  She immediately wanted to go back to sleep. She had awakened from a good dream, one she had experienced so many times before, a dream of her father, her real father. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the butterfly struggling in the spider’s web. She remembered the intense desire to save the beautiful creature, with yellow wings framed in purple at the edges. Just as she reached out, her father had stopped her. She never saw his face, but somehow, she knew it was her father. His words echoed in her mind.

  “If you save the butterfly, the spider will die.” His voice was calm, wise, reassuring. She stilled as her father pulled her hand back and held it.

  “But why, father, why does the spider have to kill the butterfly?”

  “The spider must kill in order to live. That is its nature, and its purpose. The spider only does what it was born to do. If it did not kill some of the butterflies, there would be too little food for them, and many would starve. It is not our place to decide which should die and which should live. Death is not always evil, nor is life always good. Remember that there is beauty and purpose in all things, even when it is not easy to see. Our mortal eyes cannot see all truth.”

  She had relived the scene so many times that she knew it by heart. The dream always began with those same words, but sometimes it ended immediately after, and sometimes she watched the spider for hours in her sleep as it wrapped the butterfly in silk, then repaired its web and sat placidly in the center, it’s jet black surface smooth and reflective, as if covered with oil. Strange that something black could reflect light. Two bright orange bands ran from the spider’s two foremost legs, then across its back, crisscrossing in the middle, and then on to the two rearmost legs. In its own way, it possessed a beauty almost as stunning as the butterfly.

  Miri reached for the charm that lay against her chest, a golden spider clutching a blue gemstone. It had hung from her neck since she had been found as a child, and she had kept it close ever since. The dream, and the pendant, were her only connection to a past she could not remember. Both of them had become a source of comfort, and she needed that comfort now.

  After a few minutes waiting for the worst of her headache to pass, she willed herself out of bed and got dressed. When she looked outside, she noticed that the morning was well under way. She muttered to herself how unlike her it was to sleep so late. She should have already eaten breakfast and tended to Darien. He would want to interrogate that prisoner. He probably already had.

  She hurried downstairs and grabbed a biscuit from the kitchen, eating as she walked. She went to check Darien’s room, suspecting he probably had already gone. She opened the door quickly, and stopped. Surprisingly, he still slept peacefully, quietly. When she focused her mind, she saw the light within Darien shining steadily. The dark mist had thinned to almost nothing, weak as it had ever been, despite his exertions of the previous evening.

  She walked over to him, and though she knew she should wake him, she waited, watching as his chest rose and fell. He always slept fully clothed, a strange habit. She reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. She traced a line up the side of his face and pressed her palm to his forehead. She did not check for fever, but rather for cold, an unnatural chill that always grew worse with the dark mark. He felt warm, much better than usual, so she pushed her hand forward, tangling her fingers in his hair. He really was quite handsome, in a cold and lonely way, like a snow covered peak in the distance, majestic and beautiful but hopelessly far away.

  What am I doing, Miri chided herself? It’s a miracle he didn’t wake up. She let her hand fall to his shoulder and started gently shaking.

  A moment later, he snapped awake and sat up immediately. Mirisa stepped back quickly.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Darien said and turned towards his room. “Damn, what time is it?”

  “I’m sorry, I slept in. I usually never do.”

  “What are you talking about?” Darien said. “It isn’t your job to wake me up. I don’t usually sleep that soundly, or this long. Hmm.” Darien put a finger to his chin. He was thinking of something, and the more time she spent around him, the more curious Miri became to know just what thoughts ran through his mind during those moments of intense concentration. “I want to ask that prisoner some questions. You’re welcome to come as well.”

  “Wait, what about your healing, and breakfast?”

  “I feel fine this morning, and I can eat later.”

  “At least let me look.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, and lifted his shirt. It was far better than she had expected. It seemed no larger than the previous evening. Perhaps the impromptu healing she had done the previous evening had been sufficient. “See, whatever you did last night must have worked well.”

  “Are you sure? It will just take a few minutes.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Darien started to get up, then stopped and squinted. “Are you alright?”

  “Me, oh yes, I’m fine.” Miri didn’t think her denial very convincing, but then Darien did seem rather dense when it came to such things. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice.

  “Are you sure? You seem troubled.” Dammit, of course he would notice this time, Miri cursed silently. He stared with such concern that Miri had to turn away. “Those men I fought last night. Garok told me some of them were looking for you.”

  Miri took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry you got involved. I didn’t think they would follow me all the way out here.”

  “I thought they were after me, to be honest. If they weren’t before, they will be soon.” Darien sighed and looked out the window, then shook his head. “The ones after you, who are they? Why are they after you? Garok mentioned Zandrek, said he was your brother.”

  “Well, not by blood. Zitane and Zandrek found me, like I told you. They brought me back to their father, King Ezmir, who adopted me as his daughter. Everyone was good to me, they even tolerated my… abi
lities.”

  “You should not be ashamed of your abilities. You possess a rare gift.”

  “Thank you. I suppose I’m still not used to thinking of it that way.” Mirisa managed a weak smile. “They were kind to me anyway. As I grew to a woman, things began to change. Zandrek changed most. He was always ambitious, energetic, but he wanted more. He convinced my father to open our kingdom to the other nations. He brought in strange advisors, outsiders. I didn’t like them. They gave me the oddest sense, like they were hiding things. They always did whatever Zandrek asked, but I didn’t trust them. Zitane didn’t like them either, but Zandrek was always father’s favorite, and the crown prince.”

  “So that’s why you left? Zandrek wanted to make sure there were no obstacles in his way to the throne, get rid of siblings who might conspire against him.”

  “No, Zandrek knew his brother would never oppose him. Zitane is a good person, but he isn’t strong or bold like Zandrek. We left because Zandrek wanted, well he wanted me.”

  “And you refused him.”

  “Yes, I care for both my brothers, but I did not love him, not that way. I asked my father to intervene, but he took Zandrek’s side. They couldn’t force me to marry Zandrek, but they made my life miserable. The king confined me to the palace, and everyone pressured me, every day. It was miserable. Everyone in the palace admired Zandrek and couldn’t understand why I didn’t want him. People I had known for years became so cold to me. I tried to leave on my own at first, but Zitane found out, and he decided to go with me. He wasn’t happy either. There were some that wanted Zitane to challenge Zandrek, but Zitane just isn’t like that. He doesn’t want the throne, so we left, and we ran, until we found our way here. We’ve been living here ever since, close to four years now.”

  “I see.” Darien placed his hand on his chin, thinking again. What secrets might he be hiding? “You have my sympathy, Lady Mirisa. Perhaps we’ll learn something from this prisoner.” He actually reached up and patted her gently on the shoulder. She almost laughed at how awkwardly the gesture was made, but at least he actually seemed to care.

  A second later, as though a switch had been flipped, Darien got up and started towards the door. Perhaps that’s why he sleeps in his clothes, she thought. Miri followed him, stopping to grab her half-eaten biscuit from the table where she had laid it.

  The town jail was a squat rectangular building constructed of heavy stone from the mountain, rectangular bricks about two feet across and near a foot high, the only building in town made entirely from stone. Darien and Miri arrived to find Garok sitting against the building, his large frame too bulky for the narrow passages of the jail. Miri followed Darien into the jail with a shudder and wrapped her arms around herself. She hated this building. She had only been in here a few times, to heal injured prisoners, and avoided it at all other times. It stank of something, she dared not guess what. The air was always cold and still, like the stones of its construction. She hated everything about the building, the iron bars, the cramped cells. The idea of being trapped frightened her as few things could.

  Kellan and Zitane stood in front of the furthest cell, staring in. The prisoner crouched against the farthest wall. When the prisoner saw Darien, his eyes grew wide, and his mousey face turned away. He pushed himself further into the corner of the cell.

  “Thank you for waiting,” Darien nodded to Kellan.

  “Who says we were waiting?” Kellan shook his head. “Damned rat won’t say a damned word.”

  “Ah,” Darien said. “Well perhaps I can remedy that.” Darien put a finger to the lock, and sparks flew out from his hand. The lock clicked open. The mousey man’s terror increased, and he turned to claw at the wall like a terrified animal.

  “Stop that,” Darien instructed, taking a firm tone. Miri looked up at Darien, feeling the magic force building within him, just as he had done when he had tried to scare her after she followed him. It seemed that he could use fear like a weapon against most people. Darien walked into the cell while Miri remained with Zitane, watching, afraid and fascinated at the same time.

  “You should know that won’t do any good. You understand what I am, yes?” Darien spoke again, and the man turned and nodded obediently, eyes wide with fear. “Good, then let me be plain. Just in case you forgot, everyone in your party is dead. No one is going to help you, and if you try to escape, you will regret it. Your best option is to cooperate. I take it you understand what will happen if you don’t?” Darien looked sharply into the man’s eyes. Miri felt something, a surge of power. When she looked at the prisoner, she thought she understood. The mousey man stared at Darien with blank eyes, even as his body trembled, and his hands scraped at the floor. Miri understood that the prisoner was under some kind of spell that held him.

  “Darien what are you doing? you’re not hurting him are you?” Miri asked, not entirely sure how the spell worked.

  “Not at all, not yet anyway,” Darien said without taking his eyes off the prisoner. Even so, his voice softened just enough that she believed him. “Just making sure he doesn’t lie to me.” Zitane watched with a mixture of fascination and horror, while Kellan wore a look of stern concentration.

  Darien’s voice returned to its dull threatening tone when he spoke again. “Now, let me be perfectly clear. My name is Darien. I am not your enemy, and I have no interest in harming you. I’m only interested in information. You will tell us what you know, and you will not be harmed. If you choose to be difficult, then I will find out what I want to know anyway, and it will be a great deal more painful for you. The man you followed, the one who was a mage like me, he is dead, so you have no fear of reprisal.” The mousey man breathed deeply, and relaxed just a bit. “Good. Now who sent you?”

  The mousey young man slowed his breathing, and spoke. “Our Boss, Carliss, he tells me what to do. I’m just a common thief. I just do what he tells me so he don’t put the voices in me.”

  Darien laid a hand on the mousey man’s trembling shoulder. The man froze like a statue, until Darien withdrew his hand. “I believe you, but it is important you tell us everything you do know, all the same.”

  “Boss says we look for the girl, so we look for the girl.” The mousey man raised a trembling finger to point at Mirisa. She frowned, thinking what these men might have done if they had caught her. “We didn’t know nothing else. I swear. Please don’t hurt me.”

  “And did your boss tell you who I was?” Darien asked

  “No, I can’t tell who’s a sorcerer and who ain’t just by looking. I’ve never seen you before last night.” The man looked over Darien’s shoulder at Mirisa again. “I swear that she was the only one the boss was after. He never told us there was any sorcerers here.”

  “I see. That’s helpful. Thank you,” Darien said. “When did you realize I had magic?”

  The young man winced and reached for his back, tears momentarily escaped his eyes. “When you… when you burned me with fire. Why? I… I did what you told me.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Darien’s voice had changed again, more soothing and sympathetic now, but Miri felt the hollowness of it. He was still tensed, ready for anything, like a predator with a cornered prey, alert for any aggression. “I know it was painful, but the crossbow bolt in your back might have killed you had I not acted.” The man nodded somewhat uneasily, not entirely convinced. “So, about your boss, Carliss was it? Where did he find you?”

  “I’m just a thief, from Ritsen. Me and my friends, saw this outsider flashing his coin, asking ‘bout a woman, so we snuck into his room when he wasn’t there. We got in but something went wrong, some kind of trap. Next thing I know, I’m somewhere else, chained up.” The young man sniffed and trembled. “They took me to this place. Sorrowmont they called it. They made me… do things. I… I killed him. I killed Benny, my best friend. I didn’t want to, but they put voices in my head. I couldn’t stop.” The young man shut his eyes and shook his head, weeping desperately now. “Please, please don’t make m
e do anything else. Just kill me, please. I can’t stand the voices anymore.” The young man’s voice trailed off into series of quiet whimpers, as he twisted the fingers of his hands, cracking his knuckles loudly.

  “I won’t,” Darien sighed and rubbed his own temples, the stern and threatening look vanished for a moment, but it quickly returned. “But don’t forget that I can, if you lie to me.” The mousey man gulped and nodded furiously. “Now, this is important. Do you know anything else about your mission? They sent you to find the girl, but who sent you? Someone hired your boss, yes?”

  “Don’t know who gives the Boss orders. Never seen him. Someone in Sorrowmont.” The youth shivered, and his eyes momentarily rolled back in his head, but he recovered after a moment. “Left Sorrowmont about three weeks ago, headed west, then we met up with some elves, in the forest, outside Boar’s Glade, and then we come here,” the man said. “Don’t know much about the elves, but I think they led us here. They had a leader, didn’t stay long when we made camp. Said he had to report to someone named Zandrek. Boss says we find the girl.” The man pointed at Mirisa again. “Been camped outside the city for two days, just waitin’, watchin’. Boss was gonna take her himself, I think, take her back to that Zandrek.”

  “Very good.” Darien smiled and patted the mousey young man on the shoulder. “Thank you for your honesty. Is there anything else you know?”

  “Nothing else. I swear. I swear to all the gods.”

  “Alright. Now, be calm, and hold out your hand.” The man whimpered pitifully, like a whipped dog. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to make sure there are no more spells on you.” The young man shut his eyes, and reluctantly put out a hand. Darien took it, and held it with his left hand, then ran his right hand up and down the young man’s arm.