5. A Goddess Falls from the Stars #2
A singular, notable feature is the white strand that frames the left side of her face.
Isabel can’t get enough, drinking in the sight of her smooth skin and her plush, full top lip, which is slightly darker than the bottom one.
She isn’t sure why, but she wants to touch them to see if they’re as soft as they look.
“Are you okay?” Kaelen asks. Isabel’s eyes snap away from the stranger. He’s staring at her, watching the way she’s leaning against the table to take pressure from her leg. Isabel reaches down to massage her thigh.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” she says, laughing. Changing the subject, she says, “Where do you think she came from?”
“I’m not sure. She just . . . fell from the sky,” he says. “Do you think that’s where she comes from? The sky? ”
“I’m not sure what to think.” Isabel is still struggling to understand what happened tonight.
Where did she come from? She wonders. And who was chasing her?
“If I hadn’t been there to catch her, she might be another trapped soul drying out on the ground.
The Vacciom would have gotten her and drained any life she had left.
” Isabel glances at the pile of scraps that were once a dress.
“Look at her clothes. Do you think she’s some sort of princesa? Or a high lord’s daughter?”
“Should we turn her in? Whether she’s a fugitive or a missing princess, we might get a reward.”
Isabel gives Kaelen a disappointed look, and he sighs.
“No one around here could afford clothes like that,” he says. “The people of Cielo are getting by as best they can, working hard to put food on the table. Besides, there are no royals in this shire.”
Isabel’s eyes widen as she turns to Kaelen. “You think she’s from outside Cielo? She doesn’t look elven or like a giantess. Not any I’ve heard of. Maybe she’s a draek?n shifter?”
“Wouldn’t she have wings?” He flutters his own wings, which are hidden under his kaftan.
“Oh, right.”
Isabel begins muttering under her breath, recalling all the human types her mother used to tell her about as a child and considering which of them the woman is most likely to be.
“She isn’t a mermaid, she has no tail. She can’t be elven either, because her ears aren’t split, and her skin is a standard brown pigment. No wings either, so she isn’t a type of fae…” She becomes excited at the thought of studying this woman and learning all about her.
Eventually, Kaelen flicks her horn. “Quit your muttering. You’re giving me a headache.”
“Sorry,” Isabel says, rubbing the appendage. “Nothing this exciting has happened in a long time.”
“I’m not sure about exciting,” Kaelen says as he unpacks the shopping Isabel forgot about.
She joins him, putting away bread and herbs.
She makes a lot of her own medicines and forages most of her food, but visiting town and getting the gossip is nice.
And it’s convenient. Sometimes, she gets so busy with her work that she neglects her cooking.
“What do you mean?” Isabel asks, washing her hands and pulling one of the glowroot vials from her belt.
“Well, it’s dangerous, is all. You saw the shape the woman was in when we found her. She obviously has a lot of enemies. What if they follow her here? Or what if she is the danger?”
Isabel furrows her brow, getting to work on creating Senor Abisai’s S.E.D. tonic. “I think that’s unfair,” she says, unsure why she’s defending the stranger. She grinds herbs and cold-presses her Sikeci oil.
Kaelen sits on the counter, munching on a guava. He has one in each hand and drops the leaves into the jar beside him so Isabel can use them for tea.
He keeps her company as she works, listening as she prattles on about her recent foraging trip and about witnessing a Mirimiri give birth.
Kaelen had stayed clear of the cottage during that time. Isabel found an injured Mirimiri mother and turned their home into a cave with plenty of things for the pregnant bat to hang onto while she nursed it back to health and helped it deliver.
This is how many of their conversations are. Isabel talks about her current fixation, and Kaelen pretends he understands what she’s talking about.
After finishing the medicine, she hands a vial to Kaelen.
“Can you bring this to Senora Bembe and Senor Abisai?” she asks.
“Tell her this should last a month and to come back for more. I know it’s late, and I would go myself, but I don’t want to leave this woman alone in case anything happens,” Isabel says, motioning to the woman lying on the table.
Kaelen eyes the peacefully sleeping woman, her chest rising and falling slowly.
“Should I be leaving you alone with her?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the cap on the vial.
“She’s harmless, and she’s sleeping. I’ll be fine. The injuries and healing I performed on her must have drained her a lot, so she should still be out for a while.”
Kaelen sighs. He ties a string around the vial and pulls it over his head. “Fine. But keep your guard up. I’ll be back soon.”
Isabel follows him to the door and watches as he shifts forms and grows. Without her on his back, he doesn’t need to get as big and can prioritize speed. Isabel waves as he takes off into the sky, then closes the door.
Once Kaelen’s gone, exhaustion hits her, and she slumps back against the door. Now that she’s alone with the stranger, though, she is a bit giddy that he is gone.
She walks over to the table where the woman sleeps and lays her head on her arms, draped over the counter as she watches for a while.
“Is this creepy?” she asks the sleeping woman, when she has been staring too long, even though she knows she won’t get a response.
“Who are you? And where did you come from? Mother used to tell me all sorts of stories about her travels, and the people she would meet. Never did I think such a fascinating creature would land on my doorstep.” She reaches up and runs a hand along her horn.
“You don’t have horns like me, or any other anima-parts that I could see.
No wings like Kaelen, so you aren’t of the dragon family. ”
She sighs, her eyes finally straying from the woman and to the mess of her kitchen.
“Since you aren’t going to respond any time soon, I guess I should clean up.
” She bustles around the cottage, finishing some of the things she was supposed to get done today, cleaning, putting away the rest of her groceries, and she starts canning and preparing some of her most popular herbal remedies.
Pulling a kettle off the hot stone, she makes a mug of lemongrass-and-guava-leaf tea, then has one of the pastries she got from the bakery in town.
After finishing the cleaning, she makes a guava cake as a surprise for Kaelen and starts on a stew for tomorrow’s dinner. Once that’s simmering, the sky begins to lighten, and Isabel yawns. She peeks at her guest, who is still sleeping, and decides to get some rest herself.
Sitting on the couch so she can watch the woman, she only plans to lie down, but her eyes grow heavier and heavier, and she slowly drifts to sleep.
Isabel wakes up with a start and goes to check on her guest. The beautiful black-haired woman is still asleep on the table.
It makes her a bit nervous, so she does another scan with her magic.
The woman’s head seems fine, and her injuries aren’t life-threatening.
But whatever she has been through, it must have taken its toll.
Isabel goes to the window and peers out.
Though she doesn’t want to leave, especially since Kaelen has yet to return, it doesn’t seem like the stranger will wake for a while, and she needs to do something important.
She has been waiting for the faerie in the dying star to hatch for weeks, and tonight should be the night.
It’s the brightest it has ever been and shows all the signs she has come to recognize with a dying star.
Isabel goes to her wall of books, finding the journal with stars etched into the cover.
She has been studying the stars, and charting their path for years.
She’s familiarized herself with star theory, and theology.
She has studied star charts, and even made her own observations to add to the work.
She knows exactly where she needs to be tonight to catch this falling star.
Grabbing her staff, Isabel pulls a cloak over her shoulders and leaves the cabin.
The air is cool, a fresh breeze blowing over her and raising the hair on her arms. The stars seem brighter than usual tonight, and they light her way as she climbs up to the heart of the forest. When the trees begin growing thicker, the darkness descends.
Isabel grabs one of the warm orbs and places it in the net at the end of her hooked staff, which rattles against the shells that hang there.
She carries it with her to light the dark path, and releases it only when she reaches her destination—the base of the highest tree in the Bastama forest.
Isabel stares up at the high peak where a giant nest lies, a puddle of night in the purple, starlit sky.
She scouted it last week and found this Dindin nest here.
There’s no getting around it, as it’s the closest tree to her target and at the perfect, staggering height.
Strapping her staff to her back, Isabel reaches for the nearest branch.
She climbs up, leaning heavily on her dominant leg, squinting through the dark as she scales the tree.
As she draws higher, the tree begins to waver, swaying in uncertainty.
She clutches the branches tight and keeps going.