Liza reached a hand out and laid it on Opal's forearm. "Opal…Miss Sally isn't here anymore. She passed away last week."
And Opal's little chocolate face crumpled.
We were ushered inside Miss Sally's cottage. It seemed that a memorial ceremony was in progress, and every surface inside was draped in black cloth, including the people. I felt as though my companions and I were a rainbow dropped into the midst of a dark thunderhead.
Needless to say, Opal was not a cheerful part of our rainbow.
She sat in a more secluded area of the cottage, crying, as the three of us attempted to comfort her. But as I had learned in Coffinwell after the demise of Connor's relatives, it was not easy to offer comfort in death. And Miss Sally, it seemed, was much closer to her than Connor's relatives had been to him. From the few moments Opal was coherent, she spoke of Miss Sally mothering, raising, and teaching her for the nearly five years since her parents had passed. And now this mother figure was gone, as well.
With the assistance of Liza and several others who were attending the service, we managed to coax the usually ever-hungry Opal to eat a morsel of bread. It did not take long for us to give up trying any more, for she clearly wished to be left alone. So Connor, Sydney, and I stood awkwardly to the side, feeling distinctly out of place. The gloom in the cottage almost overwhelmed me, even with Connor holding me as close as was appropriate. I held him, too, and with one hand I held Sydney's left. I felt a need to protect them. It was strange, given they were both just as capable as me- likely more capable in Connor's case- but it was there all the same. Could I have, I would have protected Opal, as well, but she had retreated within herself.
So we stood.
At one point, people were asked to make speeches in Miss Sally's honour. To my immense surprise, Opal rose from her chair before anyone else and walked to the front of the room.
"Miss Sally was more than a teacher to me," she said to all of us. "After my parents died, she became a mum and a dad, a mentor and a friend. And I am so sorry that she's gone. There was so much I wanted to tell her- how much she meant to me, about the adventure that I came to when I finished my training with her. I wanted her to meet the friends I made along the way, and I wanted them to meet her. 'Cause if there's one thing everyone agreed on about Miss Sally, it's that she was just about…just about the n-nicest person you could ever meet." She swallowed then, and I saw another tear slide out of her violet eye. "I'm gonna miss her a lot until we meet again."
Without any further words, without a second glance at the audience, she left the cottage. I looked at Connor and Sydney, and without speaking we began to move towards the door.
We had to search for a while before we found Opal. She was sitting on the ground by the harbour, staring out at the ocean. She was shaking, and I saw the tracks of tears making glimmering paths down her cheeks.
"She's out there, you know," Opal said without turning around. "In the ocean. She always said…she wanted to be buried at sea." She sniffled once, and Sydney moved to sit next to her. Without speaking, she put an arm around Opal's small, thin shoulders.
Connor and I joined her. And there the four of us sat, huddled together by the sea. The sun was dipping down into the water, staining it orange and red. The clouds above were pinkish. A few gulls flew overhead, calling to one another. I felt around for a rock to drive them away, to give Opal peace, but she shook her head. "Don't," she told me. "I like them."
We sat there together for a long time, until the sun sank below the waves and the stars came out. Desperate to break the melancholy silence that had hung over us since Liza had said that Miss Sally was dead, I pointed up to them.
"Celestrian lore tells us that each of these stars is one of our race that has passed on to the next realm," I said. Three faces turn towards me as I continue speaking. "Each star is unique, representing the being that once it was. That one-" I point to a large, reddish-gold star that sits low on the horizon- "is named Musca. She was a warrior who protected the kingdom of Gleeba when the desert monsters threatened to overwhelm it, millennia ago. In destroying the threat, she gave her life for those she protected."
I pointed to a bright blue star that stood watch over the whole sky from its position in the centre. "That one there is Scutum, shield of the Protectorate. He was among the first to take up the burden of Guardianship, and so he carried much of the burden before others joined him. He was in the front ranks of the war against the ancient evil whose name has become lost to time, and he was a great fighter. He survived the war, and became a true hero."
A plain yellow-white but unusually bright star in the northwest was the next for me to point at. "Pyxis, there, was a guide to the first mortals to sail the seas. He showed them how to navigate by those stars that already stood in the skies.
"Lyra, the blue star in the south, brought music to the mortals with her harp. The other Celestrians thought it to be pointless, that the mortals did not have time for the beautiful sounds music created, but Lyra brought it anyway, and though Celestrians ceased creating their melodies centuries ago, the mortals continue still."
I stopped there. Those stories were the only ones I recalled fully and clearly, and I did not wish to mangle the centuries-old tales.
Connor squeezed my shoulders gently. "You're an excellent storyteller," he told me. "Were they true?"
I nodded. "Apus Major, the most senior of our race that still lives, has memories of Pyxis. And Lyra's melodies are still sung by Celestrians and mortals alike."
"Could you sing one?" asked Opal quietly.
I thought for a moment, then smiled. "Certainly," I said. Lyra's melodies were different from other songs Celestrians composed about the Almighty; they referred to Him as Father and one who loved rather than a jealous being that held sins against you. I had always much preferred her songs to the others.
"When the dark closes in and the sadness seems deeper than the sea,
"When the danger is high, monsters of the night chase after me,
"I shall not fear,
"For He is near.
"My Father, my protector,
"Always He watches over me!
"My Father, my protector,
"Safe He shall always keep me.
"He loves me, my Father, with a love that none but He can comprehend,
"By His powerful love He shall keep me safe without end.
"In my sorrows He comforts,
"In my sadness he heals.
"My Father, my protector,
"Always He watches over me!
"My Father, my protector,
"Safe He shall always keep me.
"My Father, my protector,
"Always He watches over me!
"My Father, my protector,
"Safe He shall always keep me."
When my voice faded to silence, no one broke it for several long moments. Connor pulled me slightly closer, and I smiled as I leaned a little into him. He had a nice smell, I decided. What it was I could not identify, but it was nice.
"Thank you," said Opal after a long time. Her voice was surprisingly steady. "I think that's just what I needed." She pushed herself up slightly and smiled at me. "I'm gonna be okay, I think. After all, Miss Sally's at peace, and I'm gonna see her again someday. And until then, I've got my friends, right?"
"Right," the three of us chorused. Opal's smile grew a little, slowly returning to its usual beaming strength. "Let's go to an inn," she said, rising. "There's a good one near here called The Flowery Beds."
Lyra's song played in my head as Connor and I walked through a meadow of sweet-smelling flowers, holding hands. The day was glorious- cloudless, warm. Birds sang as they flew overhead.
Then, as Connor stooped down to pick one of the flowers, I realised that his garb was white as snow. I recognised it from weddings I had seen while guarding Angel Falls. I looked down to myself and saw that I was wearing a long, sleeveless white dress. It fell to my feet in such a manner that I did not have to think about holding it up to be able to walk. I could feel that I was barefoot, as was Connor.
My cheeks warmed as I realised what it meant.
Connor smiled as he came up with his flower. "You look beautiful," he told me. I had to smile. "Thank you," I said. "You are…very handsome." Connor laughed and gave me the flower. "I am serious," I said, putting my face to the flower to smell it.
A flower-wrapped arch stood ahead of us.
As we walked towards it, I placed the flower in a small hole in Connor's shirt. It fit perfectly, a splash of red against the white.
My eyes drifted to his face, and the smile that had occupied my face disappeared in a sudden wave of horror. Connor's hair had gone as stark white as his clothing. His face was creasing in wrinkles even as I watched.
"No," I whispered, unable to speak any louder. Connor began to slow, stumble. I stopped to keep him from falling. The skin of his hands was growing paper-thin, liver-spotted.
Connor's breath was coming hard. I helped him over to a small pond that was near us and sat him down. Cupping my hands, I dipped them into the water to get him a drink. But I could see our reflections in the pool, and I recoiled. Each moment, Connor grew older, but my reflection remained exactly the same. The skin around my red eyes did not wrinkle, the hair held back by my headband did not thin.
Breathing quickly, I turned to Connor. Some part of my mind prayed that his rapid aging was naught but a trick of the pool, but it was not.
"Connor!" I said then, but he did not respond. His eyes had closed, and his breath had slowed until his chest scarcely moved. "Connor, do not leave me," I begged, "do not! I love you, Connor, please stay with me!"
But my begging had no effect. Slowly, even the slight movement of his chest stopped, and I was left holding a corpse.
"NO!"
I woke, breathing as though I had just finished running a race. Without looking to see what time it might be, I threw off the bedclothes and raced out of my room. I barged into Connor's room. He sat up, blinking sleepily, as I threw myself into the bed and flung my arms about his neck.
He was stiff for a moment from surprise, then put his arms around me as well. "Hi," he said, laughing. "What…what's the matter, Zera?"
For several moments, I could not speak. I simply kneeled on the bed, feeling Connor's chest move up and down, the gentleness of his arms as he held me, the lean hardness of his fourteen-year-old body, taking in his scent. He was not dead, he had not aged as my nightmare had told me. He was alive, young, and holding me.
"I had a nightmare," I finally managed to say. Connor rubbed my back gently. "It was just a dream," he whispered into my ear. I relaxed slightly, but I could not shake the memory of the dream.
"But it is true," I whispered. "Or it will be." I began to shake a little, and Connor pushed me back so he could look at me. I took in his face, unlined, his hair dark brown. "Zera, what on earth did you dream about?"
"You," I whispered. "But you changed. We were walking, and then you grew terribly old, and I stayed the same, and then…and then…" I could not finish. Though it was dark, I could see the expression on his face when he comprehended what I had not said.
"It really was just a dream, Zera," he told me, pulling me back in. "I'm not going to grow old any time soon. And I'm certainly not going to die."
"But it is going to happen one day," I said. My words were muffled, as I spoke into his chest. "And I will not be able to share it with you. I want to grow old in pace with you, not in the dragged-out manner that I must!"
"Zera." Connor's voice was serious, and I looked up. "We still have time. No one is leaving anybody until we find the fyggs, and neither of us is going to age much in that time.
"That is not the point," I whispered. "I will not be able to grow old with you. I want to, Connor! And I cannot!"
Connor grabbed my shoulders then, and pushed me back. He looked at me seriously. "Zera, you need to listen to me. There's no point in stressing yourself out. You can't change this- you can't even try. Stressing yourself out won't do a blasted thing to stop it, all right? We're just going to have to enjoy this while it lasts."
I sniffed once. "I know," I said. "I am sorry I reacted so. The dream was just…it was terrible."
Connor smiled slightly. "It was only a dream. If you want to, you can stay here until morning."
"Alright," I said. Connor slid his hands off my shoulders and got off the bed. "What are you doing?" I asked, confused. He bent down. When he reappeared, he was holding his training top. He slipped it over his head. "I suppose that answers your question," he said, smiling. I smiled, as well. "Yes, it does."
We settled down into the bed. Connor took one of my hands. My lids grew heavy within moments, but I needed to say one more thing. I raised my head a fraction and murmured, "I must tell you something."
"What is it?" Connor asked.
"I love you."
Even in the darkness, I could see the smile grow upon his face. Very gently, he kissed me on my forehead. "I love you too, Zera."
And together, we slept peacefully that night in Bloomingdale.
/\*/\
I awoke the next morning, blinking sleepily, to the sound of a knock on the door. It seemed that Connor was awake already, for he was getting up to answer. "Morning," he said when he saw me stirring. He was smiling. A smile grew across my face in response. "Good morning to you, as well," I said.
It turned out to be Sydney at the door.
"What is it?" Connor asked. I sat up as Sydney replied, "It's Sunday. Opal said that the service here starts at eight, so I figured I'd ask you if you wanted to go."
"At the church?" I asked, crossing the room. Sydney nodded, seeming only slightly surprised to see me in Connor's room. "Do either of you want to come?"
I looked at Connor, who was looking at me. He shrugged. "I would enjoy it," I said, looking to Sydney. "I have never been to a mortal church service before."
"I suppose I'll go too," Connor said. "Are we going to go there on our own, or will we meet up in the common room first?" As he spoke, my stomach growled. I smiled. So did Sydney and Connor.
"Common room, I think," Sydney said. "Opal's hungry too, I'm sure, so we may as well get some breakfast before the service. See you in a few minutes!"
She turned and left for the common room. I stretched luxuriously, yawned, and said, "I should get dressed." I was wearing only a thin cotton shift as a nightdress. "Good idea," Connor said. "Maybe we ought to try to find something nicer."
"Sydney might have something in that bottomless bag of hers," I said. Connor smiled. "Maybe," he said.
So we headed downstairs to ask.
Sydney had nothing in her bag, but Opal told us that the innkeeper's children had plenty to spare. "They'd share with me all the time when I didn't have something nice enough," she said. So we each borrowed a set of nice clothes, ate, then dressed for the service.
Looking in the mirror, I played with my hair. Letting it out of its ponytail, I swirled it around my shoulders, where it seemed almost bright against my deep blue dress. Smiling, I brushed through it quickly, pulled on my boots- they were nearly invisible under the hem of the long dress, so they would do- and joined the others in the inn's common room.
"Ready?" asked Opal, who was wearing a vividly pink skirt and a pale blue blouse. When we nodded, she took the lead. It was bright outside, and people were moving through the streets towards the church. The bell in the tower was ringing.
The four of us filed in and sat down in a pew halfway up the left row. It did not take long for the church to fill, and soon the bell tolled eight o'clock and the service began.
"Welcome," said the older man leading the service. "That's Father Jacob," whispered Opal. "He's been the priest here since before I was born."
"May the blessings of the Almighty be with all of you this fine morning," continued Father Jacob. "Before we begin the service, are there any guests in our flock?"
Opal pulled on my arm as she stood, and the two of us rose. Connor and Sydney followed suit. There were another two guests several pews ahead in the right row, an older couple.
Each of us said our names, and when it came Opal's turn, I saw a number of people in the congregation smile. "It's good to have you back here, Daughter Opal," said
Father Jacob, and I smiled at the term. It fit Opal well.
We sat back down as Father Jacob formally began the service with a call to the Almighty to be with us as we worshipped. The congregation rose when he bade us. I followed along as best I could to an obviously ages-old confession that the group spoke as one. It was very close to one that the Celestrians used, so it was not too difficult.
"Merciful Almighty, I know that I have sinned against You and against my neighbour. I know that I am not worthy of Your great love, and I am truly sorry. Forgive me, Almighty, and help me to do better by Your great mercy. In Your holy name I pray, Amen."
I settled comfortably into the community of the congregation as the service progressed. A woman in her mid-thirties with very short black hair stood several times to lead us in hymns, many of which were variations on those I had heard each Sunday from the congregation of Angel Falls. I recognised one as being based upon one of Lyra's songs. The familiarity was comforting.
When the service had ended, the congregation spilled outside the church to socialise and eat. Quite a few people came over to us in order to converse with Opal. They offered condolences for the loss of Miss Sally, and asked her what she had done since taking leave of Bloomindale. As she spoke, I realised how quickly she healed. Her eyes scarcely grew damp with the multitude of condolences, and she seemed her ever-cheerful self. She truly did believe what she had said the previous night, then, about Miss Sally being at peace and seeing her again someday.
The members of Blooomingdale's church seemed cheerful and easy to speak with. The four of us spoke about our adventures so far, though we did not mention fyggs or Celestrians. We gave descriptions of battles, people and places, and once I sang the Right Knight ditty for several children of perhaps six or seven. As we mingled easily with the people, I reflected that this city would be a wonderful place to live. Everyone was friendly and cheerful.
It was ten o'clock when we left to return our borrowed clothing. Opal was eager to visit the town's stores, and so when we were dressed in our own clothing, we set back out.
The first store was one very near to the church. It was full of carefully hand-made shoes of all sorts, from frugal footwear to wizard wellies. I found a pair of starlet sandals, leather sandals with straps that went up about my ankle. It took me quite a while to decide whether or not to purchase them. They were wonderful shoes, well-made and clearly able to withstand walking and fighting. But my Celestrian shoes had served me well throughout my adventure. They were the one part of my uniform that I had kept with me since I had fallen.
"What's up?" asked Connor, coming over to me. I looked over to him as he kneeled down next to me. "The shoes," I said. "I do not know whether I am able to get rid of my Celestrian pair."
To his credit, Connor did not seem to glaze over when I spoke of shoes. He listened as I said, "I have abandoned every other part of my Celestrian garb. And I do not know if I am able to…"
"Give up this last part?" Connor asked. I nodded. He put a hand on my arm. "I think this is your choice," he told me. I nodded once again. After a moment, Connor rose, and I was left with my ridiculously paralysing decision.
Eventually, however, I chose to take the sandals.
The others had already finished by the time I paid for my new shoes, and I looked at their purchases with interest as I tied my own on. Sydney had bought a pair of simple sheepskin shoes, plain but quite practical. Opal had purchased a pair of siren sandals, and Connor had chosen kung fu shoes, flexible, thin-soled blue and grey boots that laced up over his calves.
The next shop Opal led us to was a weapons stall. I found a green tortoiseshell fan. Opal purchased a deadly nightblade, and Sydney a watermaul wand. When we had sold the shopkeeper our old weapons, Opal lead us to the final store, an armour shop.
I merely browsed, not seeing anything to capture my fancy. It seemed that Opal did not, either, though she searched all the wares at least thrice. Sydney found a purple spangled dress and a circlet, and Connor found a tussler's top and the matching trousers. When they had paid and changed, I decided I quite liked the tussler's clothing on him. He looked very much the martial artist, and I told him so.
He smiled. "Thanks," he said. "You know, you really do look like a minstrel." I smiled, as well. "Thank you," I said. "I think I enjoy playing the part."
"You do it really well," Opal told me. My cheeks warmed. "Thank you."
"Where to now?" asked Sydney. We all thought on that for a moment. Then Sydney's eyes lit up. "Remember the man who ferried us from Porth Llaffan, who told us about the boat here?"
My face broke into a smile. "Perhaps we ought to find out a bit about it," I suggested. Opal's signature broad grin appeared. "Yeah!" she enthused. "Come on, let's go to the harbour and check it out!"
The four of us headed down the nearby stairs to the harbour, where a large ship sat moored to a wooded dock. I was amazed that we had missed the night before, but then, we had been distracted. An old man with a ring of white hair about his head stood on the dock.
"Hi, Mr Edward," said Opal. Mr Edward smiled. "It's good to see you, Opal, my dear!" he said. "What brings you and your friends to Bloomingdale?"
"The ship," I told him. He nodded, still smiling. "She's a fine specimen, don't you think? This shop used to rule the high seas from the Lonely Coast to the shores of Coffinwell. The Pride of Bloomingdale, she's called!"
Then his face grew more serious. "But ever since her owner passed away, she's been left to rot. He was a merchant, you know. A bit of a tycoon, truth be told. I used to work for him, you know. I was the ship's warden back then, employed by the fine folks up there in the mansion."
"We've been looking to find a ship," Sydney told him. The smile came back to Mr Edward's face as he heard this. "So someone still has need of the old girl… You'd better speak to Ms Bloome up at the mansion, then. I'm sure she'll oblige. She's an outrageously generous young woman. Tell the doorman you ran into me at the ship and I'm sure he'll let you in to see her. Marion's her name," he informed us, and we thanked him.
As she led us to the mansion, Opal said, "I always heard that Marion was really frail and sickly. And then her parents died not long before I left for Stornway, so I can't imagine she's gotten much better."
Opal's words about Marion's frailty made me think about what Flinn had told Erinn about herself and her mother, while I was still in Angel Falls. It struck me then how long ago it seemed. Had it truly been only sixteen days since my fall? It seemed impossible that so much could change in such a short time, but then I was accustomed to the slow-paced Celestrian way of life. In this world, where beings lived such a short time, of necessity things must happen at a quicker pace.
"This is the Bloome residence, home of Bloomingdale's most munificent citizen, Ms Marion Bloome," said the doorman when we approached.
"We're friends of Mr Edward," said Sydney. I thought that the term 'friends' stretched the truth a fair bit, but it seemed to have the proper effect. "Then you're very welcome here!" responded the doorman. "Do go in."
He moved aside and opened the gate. We passed through and entered a large, elegant hall. A trader stood inside. When he caught sight of us, he smiled. "Well, well," he said. "Are you more hopefuls? Hopeful of getting into Ms Bloome's good books, I mean?"
"Yeah," said Connor, nodding. The trader tapped the side of his nose with a weather-beaten finger. "So was I until just recently," he told us. "But now my dreams have come true! She's so generous! So wonderfully, wonderfully generous!"
He pointed us down the corridor to our right, and we followed his direction. To our right, near the end of the hall, was a door that stood slightly ajar. We peered in to watch the conversation that was beginning inside a rather plush sitting room.
A young woman with blonde hair and wide blue eyes sat upon a couch. I assumed this was Marion, but her appearance surprised me. She did not seem to be sickly in any way.
"Good day to you both," she said, addressing the man who stood on the left facing her, and the woman who was on the right. "What fun have you in store for me today?"
"Well, Marion- Ahem!" said the man. "I mean, Ms Bloome… I thought something sweet might be nice."
He moved towards her and handed her a carefully made cake. It looked quite good. "So I've baked you this delicious strawberry sponge cake. I do hope you like it."
"A spun…cake…?" asked Marion, seeming quite confused. "A…gunge…cake…?" Then she pulled herself together. "Ah, thank you," she said, smiling at the man. "Yes, I shall have it set in one of our finest vases and put on display."
I restrained laughter as the man, visibly flustered, said, "On dis…? Erm, Ms Bloome,… It's a cake, not a… I mean…Ahem! Yes, yes! Of course. As you wish."
He retreated, seeming to sense that his protests would be of little use.
"Marion, Marion!" said the woman then, and I winced at her nasal voice. "Don't you want to know what I've got for you?"
Marion turned her attention to the woman. "What is it?
The woman walked up to her. "Well, we girls prefer clothes to fatty old foods, don't we? And you're always wearing the same old ribbon, so I got you a new one!" She was beaming, clearly certain that her gift would get a far better reception than the man's. However, Marion's words punctured that idea.
"I don't want it."
"What?" squawked the woman. "B-But… What? Why! It's really prett-"
"If I say I don't want something, I don't want it!" exclaimed Marion. "My ribbon is the same as my one true friend's. It's perfect in every way. I shan't just replace it with something else." She shook her head then. "No! No, no, no! Get out of my sight! I want nothing more to do with you!"
The woman's weak protest of "B-But I… I…" was interrupted when Marion noticed the four of us peering around the door. "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you new friends?"
We entered. "Pleased to meet you," said Marion in response to our introductions. "We…haven't met before, have we?"
"No, we haven't," Opal said. "Please, we wanted to ask if we could maybe have your ship? Because the harbour master said-"
"Certainly," Marion said, interrupting Opal's explanation. "You can have it. Take it away with you. All I ask is that you let me be your frien…"
She trailed off, her blue eyes trained on me. There was a long pause while the two of us stared at one another. Slowly, Marion's face grew into an expression of fright, and she stepped back from us. "You're… You're not the same as the others…" she said. "You've come for Marion, haven't you?"
It took me a moment to process her words. Then I became confused. Why would I come for her? And why was she referring to herself by her name rather than by I or me?
"I…I do not think I understand what you mean," I said. "I have not come for anyone. My companions and I wished-"
"Liar!" Marion shouted, and I stepped back involuntarily. "I know you have. You've come for Marion. Well I won't let you! No, no, no! I hate you! You're not my friend. I take it back. You can't have my ship. Get out!"
"Really, Ms Bloome," said the man. "There's no need to get so angry."
"Yes, let's all kiss and make up! We can make up, can't we, Marion?" asked the woman, her annoying voice eager.
Marion shook her head angrily. "No, no, no! I hate you! All of you! Get out! Get out, get out, get out! GET OUT!"
This last shout had such power that I nearly leapt out of my sandals and my ears were left ringing. "Dear me!" exclaimed the man. "Un-until tomorrow then, Ms Bloome… Bye-bye!"
He and the woman raced away. Marion paused to give me a hate-filled glare and then ran through a door in the back left corner. She slammed it behind her, leaving us alone and confused in her sitting room.
Hello again, all!
I'm amazed I managed to finish this chapter in such a short time- what's it been, a week? Anyway, faster than I'd expected. But I'm glad I didn't take as long as I did last time!
This chapter was lots of fun for me to write, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed making it. So, 'til next time, may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!