*From April, 2015…
Ug, if only I hadn't plunged headfirst into the Deltora Quest fandom. But I did. And it devoured my soul for a while, there. From November to April, I bottomed out in the middle of this chapter and got nothing done. :/
But I'm dyyyyying to get to the Zebak lands, already, so I've got to finish this chapter. One more spurt or two of painful awkwardness, and we're done on this side of the world for….. Basically forever. ;D
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Chapter 12: The Homecoming
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If Star suddenly seemed quiet to some people, she wasn't surprised. She felt subdued, somehow. She couldn't put words to the feeling, but something felt… Wrong.
It hadn't been like this when the trading party had left Maris. Star had been sorry to say goodbye to her new friends, and to the Keeper, and to the library; but she had also been excited to be home. She couldn't wait to see her mother and father again, to show them everything she had done, and even to tease them over how pointless their worrying had been. Those first four days of travel had passed in a buzz of anticipation.
Then the fifth day had dawned, and Star had known immediately that something somewhere was not at all right. She could feel it all around her, in the air and the earth. Star had no idea what it could mean, but she guessed that the change must be connected to the Titans. And as the party drew closer to Rin, the sensation was only growing stronger.
At first, the feeling had been a mere curiosity, and she had wondered what her father and his brothers might be up to. As it had grown stronger, dread had quickly begun to take curiosity's place. She had begun to worry that something had gone terribly wrong at home, and it scared her to not know what it was.
Now it was the afternoon of the final day of travel. The final hill was well in sight; in less than an hour, the party would be looking down on their village for the first time in a month. Several cheers of excitement had risen from the party, but Star had been silent. The feeling of a disturbance was stronger than ever. In the back of her godfather's wagon, she hugged her knees to her chest and shivered, fearing what they might find when they reached the top of the hill.
"Star, do cheer up," Leah insisted, patting her hand. "We're almost home! It will be a relief to be back, won't it? And just think how excited your silly parents will be to see you."
"I know," Star agreed slowly. "But I still can't shake this feeling that something terrible has happened. What if someone is dead? What if the storehouse burned down? What if the whole village burned down?"
"Star, Star, calm down. Now you're just getting yourself worked up over nothing."
"I just don't know what else could have been awful enough to make me feel this way. All I can say is that it was something big. Leah, you can't tell me you don't feel it."
Leah shrugged, pushing her spectacles higher on her nose. "I feel the autumn breeze on my face, and a great joy to be home again, but that is all. Nothing feels different to me."
"I'm afraid I must agree with her, Starfire," Allun called over his shoulder. "All I feel is anxious to be back to my precious bakery. It seems strange, that you have felt this foreboding for the last three days, but no one else has noticed anything different. It worries me…"
Star pinned her eyes on the floor of the wagon, willing his words not to frighten her. She was worried about this, too. It could only mean that this change in the air was borne of deep magic; it was, indeed, being caused by the Titans. So of course Star could sense it—both of her parents were Lairad, after all. The elements had changed their moods to reflect the moods of their Titans, as the world felt the feelings of its people. The energy of the world had suddenly turned mournful and angry, shocked and fearful.
The energy felt so overwhelmingly negative, Star was unsure how she could be the only one aware of it. Yet the people around her went on chatting pleasantly, whistling merrily, or smiling towards the horizon, not thinking for a second that anything could be wrong. Even her own family, so used to the idea of magic, felt nothing amiss in the world.
But they were willing to be concerned, because she was clearly concerned. Her godparents were silent as they unsmilingly faced the horizon. Leah was nervous and fidgety. Alanis had spurred her Max to move a little faster, and her handsome face was a mask of impatience. Star had to wonder if her cousin did feel something, now that they were so close to being home, but guessed that she didn't want to admit it in front of so many people.
I should have kept my thoughts to myself, Star realized. Alanis heard me wondering if someone died, and now she's worried for her parents. There aren't many things that could turn papa's mood so foul that even the distant hills respond to it; losing his parents is one of those things, though. And, really, I can't think of anything more likely. Accidents do happen…
She felt a lump gathering in her throat, and she swallowed it painfully. Coming home should have been thrilling. As they finally crested the hill, she should have been filled with joy. Instead, as she jumped to her feet to gaze down at the valley, she was filled with aching dread.
Below them, the valley was the picture of serenity. The fields and trees were spangled glorious gold and scarlet. The village stood undisturbed and quite normal; Star could faintly see its people going about their usual business. She could see her own house, and the impressive tree in her backyard. Not terribly far away, the bukshah were milling peacefully in their pasture. As the first of the wagons reached the top of the hill, she heard distant cries and cheering. Some of the people had spotted them, and were rushing around to spread the news.
Nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary. Marlie breathed a sigh of relief. "There, you see? All is well. There's nothing to worry about, Star-Star!"
The girl was beyond paying attention. She had jumped over the side of the wagon, and was running as fast as she could down the hill. She had no intention of stopping until she reached her house, found her mother and father, and heard with her own ears what was going on. Perhaps the rest of her family couldn't see it, but something was terribly wrong. She had only had to glance at the bukshah to know it. Everyone else must have looked upon them and thought that they looked as they always did.
But Star knew the beasts well, from stories as well as experience. They were all standing too still, with their heads raised and alert. Some of the more sensitive ones were swaying slightly, overcome by nerves. And they were too quiet. The only sound she had heard from them was a single bellow, which had come from Treasure—the only black member of the herd, who had come to lead them in the last few years. The sound had been one of greeting, but also of warning.
The scene was too much like things she had written about. Deep in her heart, she knew exactly what those signs meant. The bukshah were afraid. And if they were afraid, then there was invisible danger nearby. People had ignored them in the past, but she would not.
I must find my father, she told herself. He will explain everything. Surely, he is working on things already. We will all be fine.
For some reason, she couldn't quite believe that.
The gentle slope of the hill gave her speed, but she was still out of breath by the time she reached the fence around her backyard. She hoped over it, searching desperately for one of her parents. They would have been expecting her for hours. They would have been waiting in the yard to greet her, hug and kiss her, and welcome her home. Nothing would have kept them from doing so. They would have stopped the world for it.
But the yard was deserted. It seemed as though nobody had been there in days.
She tried the door, found it unlocked, and flung it wide with a bang as she ran inside. The brass bell sounded with a clatter, but she ignored it.
"Mum!" she called. "Papa! It's me, Star! I'm home! Where are you?"
"Star?"
The familiar female voice was tight with concern, and difficult to match to a face; but Star's heart leapt with relief at the sound of it. Relief faded to disappointment, however, when Annad appeared at the other end of the hallway, her tall form filling the kitchen doorway. Her being here when her brother and sister clearly were not raised many more questions that Star had no time for.
All the same, Star was glad to see her aunt; and in spite of her concern, Annad was glad to see her, too. Perhaps a little too glad. They hurried to meet in the middle of the hallway, and her aunt embraced her with a surprising fierceness.
"Thank the heavens you're back safely," Annad murmured into the girl's hair. "We had expected you back hours ago."
"We got off to a late start this morning," Star answered, indulging her aunt's attempt at a casual greeting. "Where are my parents? Why were they not waiting for me?"
Annad gripped her niece by the shoulders and faced her squarely. "Oh, they would have been. Sadly, your father is… In the middle of something. He asked if I would greet you in his place."
Star regarded the woman suspiciously. "What about mum? She must be with him, then."
Annad made an odd, pained expression. She put her arm around Star and led her down the hallway.
"Come into the kitchen, Star. Sit at the table. I've made tea and cookies; you will be wanting both, shortly. I'm afraid there is much to tell you."
Star stared up at her, feeling terror grip her heart. "What happened? Tell me!"
"Sit down before I explain. Oh, Star… You will not like this…"
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Rowan had been dreading the trading party's return. He still had no idea how to face his only child. Explaining what had happened was a thing he didn't know if he could bear; and the news he had received in the last three days did nothing to help.
Far away, his brothers had been alarmed to find that all of a sudden, their silent talismans had flared to life with warnings of an invasion, and that those warnings had come hours too late. When it had happened, Mithren had finally joined their hive mind for the first real time in a month. He had been furious, and nearly mad with worry.
The winds were fearfully silent. Ogden and I decided to lead our people into the northern mountains, where we might be safe, he had explained, the sound of his whispering voice like a storm wind. If I have seemed distant, that is why. I have been farther away than usual, and reaching you has been difficult. But we decided that we needed the distance. We needed the space to meditate, to listen and be ready. Oh, we were fools to move out of your reach! If we had been there, we might have been of some help!
His brothers had doubted that. They had quickly decided that their most urgent business was planning their next course of action. All three of the Titans loved Zeel, each in his own way. None of them had any intention of abandoning her to the Dragon Lord's wrath. They had put their heads together, combined their power, and pleaded with the cosmos for an answer.
The answer they had received was far from satisfactory. No matter how many times they had tried, the universe continued to provide the same answer. It felt as if the words were being pounded into them with a gavel, with a command that was grave, forceful, and totally final.
The task is not yours to fulfill.
Wait, be patient, and be still.
The Dragon's reign will surely fall
And free our land, once and for all.
The answer was beyond belief. How could they be expected to be still, when someone they loved so dearly had been snatched away by their worst enemy? And how was the Dragon Lord supposed to fall, but at the hands of the other Titans? The deep magic of the Lairad was the only possible hope against her. How could the task be anyone else's?
Rowan despised it with his whole heart. A large part of him had refused to accept it. He had been tempted to ignore the whole thing, and storm off on another quest. He had beaten impossible odds like this before. He would simply do it again. Even as his brothers had begged him to be rational and not tempt fate, he had shoved a few things for the journey into a bag and ran to get Unos.
This may be the last time we fly together, he had thought vaguely. It is more than likely that we will be flying to our doom.
Of course, Sheba had known that he was coming. When he had reached the clearing in front of her home, she had been waiting to smack him across the face. She had hit him with enough force to knock him to the ground.
"Foolish boy, be rational," she had snapped, glaring down at him. "If you were not fated for this task, then attempting it for yourself will ruin everything. The task belongs to someone else, who will have the thing well in hand. Perhaps that someone has been your wife all along; we have no way of knowing. Can't you be bothered to be a little patient? You will just have to accept that this is the way it is, and that you have no right to be in the way."
He hated how right his teacher was. If destiny was working its invisible hand, he had no power to say it was wrong. The pill was bitter and difficult to swallow; but he was slowly, reluctantly admitting defeat to it. For once, the hand of Fate had chosen a different hero. And for once, he wished that it had chosen him again. Who else could have such a right to the task of rescuing his wife?
Maybe it really was Zeel, herself. Maybe that was why she had been discovered, after so many years. Maybe that was the real reason why she had been taken back to her homeland. Maybe she really was meant to do some terrible, wonderful thing, and bring about the end of the Dragon Lord's reign. Sheba had only mentioned it to try and clam him, to try and make him see reason, and remind him that he wasn't the only one with great plans. But the idea had quickly become his only hope.
There was nothing he could do now. All he really could do was wait, and pray.
It wasn't enough for the people he trusted, either. Most of his friends were in the square, waiting with the rest of the people to welcome the trading party home, and to catch his other friends before rumors or falsehoods caught them first. He was alone with John and Timon in the house of books, trying desperately to pretend that he wasn't hiding.
It would never be enough for Star. Rowan was glad that his sister had volunteered to greet her, so that he wouldn't have to. He had absolutely nothing positive to tell the girl, and nothing that could possibly comfort her.
A long silence had passed between the three men, as they had mostly run out of things to say. They had already heard cheering from the square, a sure sign that the traders had returned. Families and friends were reuniting outside, happy to be together once again. Alanis was probably looking for her father, wondering why he wasn't among them. Frenzied, half-true tales of the last few days were being exchanged, and the traders were no doubt quickly becoming alarmed.
"We will have to face them sometime," Timon said slowly. "If we don't go to them soon, they will come to us."
Rowan sighed. "Yes, I know."
"They won't care for your answers to this mess," John said heavily, shaking his head. "Rowan, I've never been one to meddle with magic, because it's no place of mine. But I must insist that you change your mind and reconsider this. Ignore the blasted sigil, just this one time. Gather a party of your trusted friends. Take your pack, and take Unos—steal the beast, if you must. Fly to the aid of your wife, and crush the Dragon Lord together, as you have crushed every other evil that ever came into your way. It has never failed before."
"You know I can't do that, John, and you know why."
"The people will never accept such a defeat so easily. They've seen you do exactly the same thing in the past, and they will beg you to do it again. All their hope rests on you, once again. If you refuse them on the premise of listening to the will of the universe, there will be a mutiny. Perhaps we are willing to consider such a thing, but others will think you mad. Many will call you a traitor."
Rowan swallowed hard. "That is a risk I shall simply have to take. I learned long ago that ignoring divine intervention has greater consequences than being thought mad. I asked for an answer, and I received one. Battling against it would be beyond foolish. It would only make things worse."
"And are you so at peace with that? They took Zeel from us—they took her from you! They have enslaved and perhaps killed her! Is this all it takes for you to abandon her?"
Rowan slammed his fist on a table, silencing him.
"Do not speak to me that way! Do I look to be at peace with this? Look at my face!"
John was visibly startled, and looked like he wanted to back away. Rowan had seen his own face in a mirror that morning, and knew that the last few days had left him a wreck of a person. He had become as pale as a specter. His eyes were deeply shadowed, bloodshot from weeping and lack of sleep. Here and there, strands of gray had appeared in his dark hair. He was exhausted, tense, and heartbroken, and it showed pitifully. In only three days, he seemed to have aged ten years.
"I have no choice but to accept my fate," he hissed. "But don't you dare think for a second that it isn't killing me."
John looked away, ashamed to have spoken so sharply; Timon had flinched away, and staunchly remained silent. It was hard for them to understand that his place in the world was suddenly so minor. Fate had chosen him for all manner of impossible tasks, and he had only been a boy. It was hard to imagine that now, when he was one of the most powerful men in the world, Fate would command him to step back, and let someone else be the destined one. It was hard to imagine that the destined one could be anyone else.
Rowan had his own ideas about who that destined one might be. He mentally shook his head, willing his suspicions to be wrong.
As if the universe was simply determined make him feel foolish, the door burst open and the very object of his worries exploded into the house of books. Star bounded across the room, her face wet and tear streaked, and threw herself into his arms.
"Papa, tell me it's not true!" she wailed. "Please tell me it's not true!"
He wished dearly that he could oblige her, but of course he couldn't. All he could really do was hold her close and gently rock her. He couldn't bear to speak to her. His silence seemed to speak for him, though. Seeing that he wasn't going to answer, Star buried her face deeper into his shoulder and let painful sobs wrack her body. She was shaking all over, like a scarlet leaf. It was a small wonder that she was still standing so straight and tall—the way her mother would have wanted her to.
Rowan was surprised with himself, that now, in this of all moments, he couldn't find any tears to weep with his child. It seemed that the well had run dry. Also, deep inside his heart, he had found the nerve to be strong for her. She needed more than ever for her father to be strong. He was almost all she had left now.
And she was almost all he had, too. He held her a little closer, relishing the warm, sweet presence he had missed so much. He kissed her hair, and silently blessed the universe for sparing her. Star was only alive because she had been so far away. She, at least, was safe. It was the one thing he could truly be thankful for.
All at once, an idea came to him. Still tucking his daughter's face safely into his shoulder, he looked up at his companions.
"I need the two of you to step outside, please," he said in a low voice.
Unable to deny him much, especially after all that had happened in the last few minutes, the two men nodded and silently made their way toward the door. John paused only briefly, obviously wanting to say something comforting to Star; but he saw right away that this was not the moment for it, and so went on his way without a word.
Once they were gone, Rowan took Star's face in his hands and tried in vain to brush away her tears. But it was no use; more and more tears flooded to take the place of those he wiped away.
"Oh, Star," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I can't begin to say how glad I am to see you."
Star suddenly looked up at him, with anger flashing in her eyes. "How can you not mean to go after her?" she demanded. "You have to go after her! How can you even think not to?"
Rowan stifled a groan. It seemed his sister had left nothing unexplained, after all. Instead, he sighed.
"I'm afraid that is also true," he said heavily. "But perhaps you can help me change that."
He reached for the sigil, and pulled it off over his head. He knew he was taking a great risk doing this; but lately, the gold medallion had been far more insightful to Star than it had been to him. A large part of him was terrified that when it spoke to her this time, its prophecy would be clear enough to rip her away from him.
Or, it could scold him for continuing to meddle with Fate, and using his distraught child to do it. It seemed a cruel thing to ask of her in this moment, when she had only just arrived home to learn that her mother had been stolen away from her. However, if they were extremely lucky, she could provide an answer. And she would never object to a chance to try. Whatever happened, he knew that later she would be proud to have been so helpful.
Willing his hand not to shake, he pressed the sigil into hers.
"Star," he said urgently, "I know it is asking much of you, but I need your help. We all do, and we need it desperately. I've already pleaded for an answer a thousand times, but the sigil refuses to speak to me. I believe it wants to speak to you, instead."
She stared at it blankly for a moment, as if she had never seen it before, as if she didn't understand what was being asked of her. She glanced up at her father, baffled, and still angry.
"What am I supposed to do?" she quietly demanded, unable to believe what was being asked of her.
Rowan gripped her shoulders gravely. "Just speak to it. Ask it for answers. I know it will listen to you, as it refuses to listen to me. You alone can do this now."
Still disbelieving, Star clutched the sigil and squeezed her streaming eyes shut. He knew she was silently speaking to it. He wondered what she was asking, exactly. He wondered which words she was choosing, and if she was asking the same obvious questions he had. Or was she using different words, asking questions that had never occurred to him before?
She was still angry and deeply hurt, but she was willing. No doubt, she was expecting a long-awaited summons to a great adventure. Expecting, and dreading.
She began to shudder all over, as words rose up from within her. But she relaxed, as she had been taught, and simply let the words of prophecy flow free.
Fire, Water, Earth and Air:
A dragon's light will guide them there—
Where chains are gold, and work is free,
Where they shall find their destiny.
Trust the captive, show him faith,
Set him free, and be repaid.
In iron claws, the land is sealed.
Now golden hearts shall be revealed.
It was the longest and most powerful prophecy she had ever been given. It didn't surprise Rowan in the slightest that as soon as the last words had left her lips, Star crumpled to her knees, only half awake. He bent to catch her and held her close again, as if he could hope to shield her from those words.
As she slowly recovered, he considered what those words meant. The verse about the elements was so painfully familiar, it was like a knife in his stomach. The words weren't about the elements, themselves, but rather four people who would be led somewhere.
He didn't have to think hard of where that place was. /Where chains are gold /and work is free/. It could only mean the Zebak lands, where every man, woman, and child was silently enslaved to their malevolent queen. It was the most wretched place he could think of to be led.
And there was suddenly little doubt in his mind of who that leader was supposed to be. In fact, he was certain that the dragon who would guide the four, and the captive who was to be shown faith, were one and the same. And he was here, locked in a prison cell just down the street.
So, it seemed that Zan Garased was to lead a band of heroes into the domain of the Dragon Queen. The prophecy had ended with words of hope, that perhaps the heroes would work some wonder and cause a great change. Rowan couldn't think of those hopeful words, though. All he could think of was that, whatever else happened, Star was clearly meant to be one of the heroes. No doubt she was to represent element Earth, where her father had been denied.
It didn't matter if Fate had made its decision. His wife, his dearest friend, had already been snatched away from him. His only child had been sparred by nothing but a fortunate accident. Rowan no longer cared what the universe wanted from him; it had already demanded far too much. If the universe was after Star as well, it would have to go disappointed. He had no intention of letting her go again. He would protect her with his life, with all his strength and power. It was the only thing he was still allowed to do. He refused to fail her now.
Star began to stir, to pull herself together and sit up straight. Pushing thoughts of Fate and the universe out of his mind, Rowan helped her up, focusing all his energy on her instead.
"Are you alright?" he asked, anxious to just hear her voice.
Star didn't answer, as much as she nodded vaguely and mumbled what sounded like an agreement. She ran a hand over her face, drained and disoriented. Her gaze wandered up to her father's face, seeking direction. Suddenly, her eyes were wide open and clear, and the anger was gone. Instead, he saw fearful wonder there, and knew that she understood the prophecy as clearly as he did.
Before she could say anything about it, he pulled her to her feet and steered her toward the door.
"We should join the people in the square," he said evenly. "You need to move, and breathe the fresh air. It will help clear your head."
"I need to meet him," the girl said suddenly.
"Meet who?"
"The boy in the jailhouse. I need to meet him."
"I don't think so, Star. You are going to stay right here with me. If you think I'm going to let you out of my sight again, you are quite mistaken."
Star looked absolutely aghast, perhaps even horrified at the idea. But she was too baffled and tired to protest, and simply let her father lead her outside.
That will not last long, Rowan thought, almost in dismay. As soon as she recovers, she will fight for her own way. I just don't know how to tell her that she can't have her way. I haven't the strength left for that battle. I sincerely hope that she sees that and takes pity on me. I don't want to fight with her now. I don't know if I can.
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When Star had sprinted past the crowd in the square, the noise had only been a buzz of various conversations. It had been a normal, happy sound, as it might have been on any other day. When she returned with her father to join that crowd, the noise had risen sharply. The terrible story of her mother's abduction was making its way around, it seemed. The newly returned traders were shouting in anger and alarm. One or two of them may have even been weeping. Some of them were demanding explanations and action. Those who already knew the whole story were shouting over them, trying to be heard.
As she and her father appeared, however, the crowd quickly fell silent. Most of them simply knew better than to try their Titan in his current mood. The newcomers all looked to him with wild hope, expecting answers or some sort of plan. Star knew how badly some of them wanted to run to him, to offer him the comfort and love she knew he needed right now. But all were silent, waiting for him to say something.
They all pinned their focus on her father, and tactfully avoided looking right at her. She was shaking, still not fully revived from her talk with the sigil, her heart struggling between despair and hope. A few tears were still streaming down her face. Normally, she would have been scolded and mocked mercilessly for crying in public; but for this exceptionally miserable occasion, it appeared that the people of Rin were willing to look the other way. Who among them could truly blame her?
Seeing that silence was going to stretch on and on until he spoke, Rowan took a deep breath and stood as straight as he could. As tall as he was, he still seemed bent with exhaustion.
"I know that many of you have been welcomed home with wild stories and rumors," he said in an amazingly even voice. "That we have been invaded, and someone has been taken. And I know that you are waiting for me to speak with comfort and hope."
He paused, staring blankly at nothing in particular as he chose his next words carefully.
"I'm afraid there is no comfort to speak. The stories and rumors are true. As for a plan, there isn't one, and little hope for one, either."
While the crowd began murmuring in grave disappointment, Star looked up at her father in disbelief.
"But there is a plan," she insisted ignoring the crowd and speaking only to him. "I just gave it to you."
He nervously glanced around him, at the sea of eyes watching them, waiting for an explanation. No doubt he wished she hadn't spoken so plainly in front of so many people; but Star didn't care about them. Why should they even care? She failed to see how it was their problem, or how they could be of any help right now.
"It is less a plan, as it is whispers of what may only be," he said diplomatically to the crowd, not to her. "It offers us little help."
"It offers us every help!" Star burst out, suddenly furious. "It tells us exactly what to do, as it always does!"
He looked down at her and crossed his arms. "Very well, Star. What do you propose we do, then?"
"We free him, of course."
Her father's tired eyes grew wide; he clearly couldn't believe she had suggested such a thing so loudly. Seeing that he would be of no help, Star turned away from him and finally spoke directly to the crowd.
"He must free the boy in the jailhouse," she announced, confident beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was right. "He knows something, or has some power we don't understand. He can help us."
To her dismay, most of the crowd was shaking their heads at her. Many people were even laughing at her. They didn't believe her any more than her father did.
"How can you be so sure of that, small Star?" someone asked, halfway between scolding and jeering.
"Because I know it," she answered, holding up the sigil still clutched in her hand. "I've seen it, and heard it. If we show the boy faith, he will repay us. I know it sounds insane, but it is the truth. I know it is!"
But no one was listening to her now. More and more of them were laughing now. Some were even grumbling in anger. Still, she couldn't spare a care for that. Her mother's life hung in the balance. She had to keep trying to make them understand. She didn't know what else she could do.
Before she could continue, her father put his hand on her shoulder and forced her back behind him.
"My daughter is not herself, of course," he said mildly. "She is obviously in shock, and can't be blamed for that."
Outraged that he would make such an excuse, she pushed his hand off and backed away.
"How can you say that?" she demanded. "You can't really believe that, can you?"
He sighed tiredly—not in defeat, just in weariness. "Star, lower your voice."
"No, I will not," she said, raising her voice on purpose. "You will hear what I have to say!"
"Star, stop this at once."
"You asked me for my help, and I helped you! What more do you want from me?"
"That's enough—"
"But I understand it so clearly! How can you not see it? How can you refuse to see it?"
"I said that is enough!"
Star flinched in terrible surprise; and it seemed like the whole crowd flinched with her. So few of them had seen him so angry before. Star herself couldn't remember the last time he had spoken so sharply to her. It felt as though he had slapped her. Suddenly, he was absolutely furious with her.
More than that, he was beyond weariness. Star couldn't understand how she had missed that before. He was so changed, it was hardly like she was looking at her father anymore. She wasn't sure if she had the heart to fight him now. But he wasn't himself, either. He was afraid—for her. He had happily let that fear blind him. He wouldn't even listen to her now, as he always had before. She didn't want to fight him; but she knew he couldn't be the one to decide this.
He gripped her hand. he hand that still held the gold medallion. The anger had faded slightly from his face, but his eyes were very cold.
"Star, go home."
"But papa—"
"Now. We will discuss this later."
He hadn't the heart to fight with her, either, but he was just as unwilling to let her have her way. He simply wasn't going to give her the chance to win.
Star hesitated, unwilling to obey. It was the last thing she really wanted to do. But it was plain to see that more disobedience would get her nowhere in particular. It certainly wouldn't convince anyone, especially her father, to listen to her.
Partially hating herself for doing as she was told, she turned and ran. As badly as she needed to be heard, she wanted to get away from the square, and the stares of the crowd. And she wanted to get away from her father. She was so outstandingly angry with his stubbornness, she never wanted to look at him again.
And to think, she thought miserably, less than an hour ago, all I wanted in the world was to see him.
As she made her way through the empty lanes, her run slowed to a brisk walk. Now that the crowd was behind her and she was alone, she found that she had quite a lot to think about. She slowed to a stop and looked down at the medallion in her hand. She gazed down at the cobbled road beneath her feet, and realized that she had come to a fork in the road.
The right-hand path would lead back to her house. She could do as her father had told her to and follow that path home, to wait for him. And very little would change.
If she followed the left-hand path, it would lead her directly past the jailhouse. She could do what Fate had commanded her to do, to free the jail's only current prisoner, and show him faith. And then, who even knew what was going to change?
After thinking it over for a moment, it wasn't really that hard to make her decision.
You've become very good at insisting on your own way, papa, she thought bitterly. It's taken you many years of practice, perhaps; but you've mastered it, all the same. Well, if the apple really doesn't fall too far from the tree…
And that was the end of that. She gave the medallion an encouraging squeeze and slipped it safely around her own neck. Then she turned and sprinted down the left-hand path without looking back.
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Afterthoughts…
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I've spent most of this chapter being less pleased with it than I would like to be. But this installation has obviously been awkward and uncomfortable, and I finally just wanted it over with. I'd like to move on, already! So darn it, it's done. :D