Raging Star

She soon realized no one else could hear them. Then she knew what it was. The call. She was getting the call. Auriel Tai got the call as a young girl, too. When light—her spirit guide—sang to her. Auriel’s grandfather became her teacher. Now she needed a teacher. Auriel could help her to find one.

All day she’d asked Auriel to come, to find them. Pressing her message into the stones with her hands, into the earth with her bare feet. Not knowing if it would work or what she was doing. But hoping they might speak to any light that touched them. The sun, the moon, the stars. That the light would then speak to Auriel. Come to me, Auriel. I need you.

She needed her badly. There were so many songs, she couldn’t make them out one from the other. Stonesongs, earthsongs, their night songs and day songs. Their songs that sighed like air through people songs. Like when Molly sang her lullaby.

But tonight in camp, lying there, listening, she realized one song had started to run through all the rest. Very faint, very small, but needing to be heard. If only she could understand what it meant.

As they started to pack up to go, suddenly she knew. It was a song of below. Of dark and alone and afraid. She told her bare feet to feel their way there. To take her to where the song began.

It don’t take long. After more’n a month of this, day after day, we got the fast come an go down pat. Slim’s carthorse, Duff, stands patient, hitched to the Cosmic. Molly an Tommo load Bean the mule with the ammo an other bits of fightin gear while the rest of us ready our horses. There ain’t much talk. We’re all shook by what’s happened.

We can hear wolfdog howls as Tracker circles Painted Rock with Tommo an Creed in search of Nero. Though I know it ain’t likely they’ll find him, still I’m tense until they come back.

Tommo’s face says all. Sorry, he says. No sign of him.

Mercy’s jest about to mount Tam, her stolen pony. I hurry to give her a boost. She don’t really need my help, but it’s my first chance to speak to her since I seen Jack. The moon shades dark the tired hollows of her face. The scratches from Nero’s attack. I could count every line, every wrinkle. But she sits tall, straight-backed, a queen in her slave collar.

I fiddle with the bridle. Keep my voice low as I says, I gotta talk to you. Alone. Soon as we git to Starlight Lanes.

Her eyes speak assent.

You comfortable there, Mercy? says Lugh. His voice makes me jump. I didn’t realize he was so close.

Yer sister’s had a shock, she says. Look to her, won’t you?

He hugs his arm around my shoulders. You don’t hafta tell me, he says. He’ll find us, Saba, he always does. He’s probly jest off on some crow business.

As I sling my pack onto Hermes, I catch Tommo starin at me. He’s kneelin, fmessin with his bootlace. The second our eyes meet, he ducks down his head. A flush floods his cheeks. My conscience gives me a guilty start. I’d put from my head he tried to talk to me earlier. Lugh’s right. I shouldn’t of took his hand at the bridge.

Now, you know where yer goin, says Slim. Starlight Lanes, Sector Five. He takes a deep breath. His arm goes up to point the way. You head southwest from here—

Got it, says Ash. You told us twice already.

Well, he says, the sign’s likely to be overgrown is the thing. There’s snakecreeper grows fast as wildfire all over the—

We’ll be on the lookout, I says. You better git rollin.

I told Peg the Flight all about you numberous times, he says, but, still, don’t especk no warm welcome. Peg’s a genius with the junk, but a notorious cranky old fish. Ergo, there ain’t many drop-ins at the Lanes. Ideal fer a hidey-hole. Oh, an I meant to say. There’s a Steward fella by Willowbrook’s got a bad tooth I promised to pull. I’ll swing by there an yank it out. Maybe stop a couple other places along the way. Gotta keep myself lookin bona fide. A wolf in sheep’s clothin, that’s me. A sheep’s dress, I should say. Ha ha! Wouldn’t that be a sight? A sheep in a frock.

Slim, I says. Go.

Walk on, Duff. He clicks at his carthorse an, with a cry of, See you anon! they’re off. Inside the Cosmic his potion bottles clank in their cupboards as they bump through the gap an outta sight.

Eccentric he is, no question. But he’s a medicine man among few such. So Slim’s got value, he’s official in New Eden. The five circle tattoo on his right arm says so. Still, it’s curfew till sun-up fer everybody but the Tonton. An dawn’s a while off yet. He’ll hafta travel by one of the old ways till daylight. The slow, rough ones that wind an wander, that nobody much uses these days. DeMalo’s new roads is the thing. The rest of us, we’ll strike out wild. We’ll probly reach Starlight Lanes well before he does.

I take a last glance around. The site’s clear. I won’t think about Nero. I won’t I won’t. We’re all here, we’re all ready to mount up. Apart from one. Where’s Emmi? I says.

Nobody remembers seein her once we started breakin camp.

Molly says, That one’s had her head in the clouds all day.

Dammit, I says. Why cain’t she never do what she’s s’posed to?

Lugh sighs. I’ll go, he says.

Look who I found! It’s a shout. Emmi’s voice. We whirl around as she comes runnin through the gap. She holds Nero in her arms.

My heart bounds. Leaps. Nero! I cry.

Tracker makes a beeline, barkin like crazy. In the clamour of excitement that breaks out, I rush to her an take him. He greets me with caws of relief. Tellin me what happened, if only I could unnerstand. I elbow off Tracker, set to drown him with slobbery licks of joy.

Where’d you find him? says Creed. We looked, Saba, I swear we did.

As I check Nero to make sure he’s okay, Emmi’s breathless with the thrill of it.

I found him in a rabbit burrow tethered to a peg, she says. His beak was tied, so’s he couldn’t call fer help. He’d nearly got it off—he’s so smart, he was rubbin aginst this sharp stone—but oh, poor Nero, it must of bin awful. He must of bin so afeared. He was sure glad to see me, I can tell you.

Where was this? I says.

Oh, over there a ways. She flaps a vague hand in no particular direction.

Unnerground, says Creed. Guess that’s why Tracker didn’t sniff him out. He ain’t no burrow hound.

How did you know where to look? I says.

Em’s a hopeless dissembler. She tries to meet my eyes, but cain’t. Like a guilty dog that’s stole the supper.

I dunno, she says. I jest kinda … felt where he was.

Felt, says Lugh. Airy fairy. Come on, Em, none of yer mystical baloney.

It ain’t baloney! I swear, she says.

Lugh gives me a frownin look. Jest then, there’s a vexed squawk from my arms. Nero’s head feathers stick up in mad spikes all over. Tracker’s soaked him with swipes of his tongue. We laugh. I ain’t laughed fer so long, I almost fergot how it feels. I pull Emmi in fer a one-armed hug an kiss the top of her head.

Thanks, Em, I says.

I’m really really sorry I didn’t watch, she says. I feel jest awful, truly I do. But look, I brought you the tether cord. Here.

She hands me a short length of two-ply hemp twine. Plain, workaday cord that’s seen plenty of use. The kind anybody pretty much anywhere might be likely to have on ’em. I shove it in my pocket. Where’s yer boots? I says. Go put ’em on, yer as bad as Creed. Okay, we’re on our way. Next stop, Starlight Lanes.