11. Constellations
Constellations
A fter the storm died down, the sky mercifully cleared of clouds.
Luella led them back to the trail the following morning, and they continued their endless trek north.
A crisp, pale blue expanse stretched above them, broken up only by the silhouettes of birds.
Felix had been mulling something over for a few days now, and he wanted answers.
He spurred Ranger forward until he was riding next to Luella.
“So,” Felix began, “how did you know about that cave?”
She snorted. “I know this area.”
He shook his head. “You came to tell me we had to get to shelter during that storm, and while we were talking, you suddenly knew where to go. How does that work?”
Luella narrowed her eyes at him. “Just because you couldn’t find your arse in the dark if someone kicked it for you, Felix, doesn’t mean everyone else is equally clueless.”
He grinned at that, then shrugged. “Fine, don't tell me. I’ll find out eventually. ”
By late afternoon, they came upon three standing stones looming over the rolling landscape.
They were massive, each one covered in a patchwork of weathered carvings, almost hidden under the thick moss growing on them.
Isolde was mesmerised by the ancient monument and begged to make camp right then so she could study them.
Luella had an uneasiness about her that made Felix suspicious. But when he questioned her about it, she snapped at him and told him he could take the second watch for being so bloody nosy today.
***
The night was unusually clear. Felix sat at the edge of their small camp, leaning against one of the monoliths.
He normally hated having the second watch – it ruined any chance of decent sleep – but tonight he didn’t mind it much.
He had allowed himself a drink; the air was crisp, and the faint breeze rustled in the grass and shrubs of the hilly terrain surrounding them.
Above him, the sky was alive with thousands upon thousands of stars.
The muffled sound of a foot slipping on a pebble interrupted his quiet musing. Felix was on his feet in an instant. Moving as quietly as he could, he crept around the stone, dagger in hand.
Another faint footstep came from his left. Felix pivoted and leapt out, weapon raised.
“Ahh! You scared me!” Isolde shrieked, stumbling back as a sudden flare of magic burst around her.
Felix cursed under his breath and staggered sideways to avoid her, dagger clattering to the ground as he braced himself against the rock.
He rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard, waiting for the rush to subside.
“What are you sneaking around the camp at this hour for?” he hissed, keeping his voice low. “I could have hurt you!”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking down. “I couldn’t sleep, and the sky was so bright. If I just moved away from the stones and the tents, I thought, I’d get a better view of the stars… ”
Felix straightened, shaking his head. A bemused grin spread across his face. Of course, the lady needed to see the stars. He retrieved his blade. “And you figured if Felix has a fit in the process, that’s a bonus?” he quipped, but his comment had no bite to it.
Isolde opened her mouth to respond, but her gaze shifted to the sky behind him. “Look!” she said, her voice filled with barely restrained excitement. “You can see the entire Serpent from here! In Azuill, his tail is always below the horizon…”
Before Felix could reply, she brushed past him and the stones and plopping herself onto the grass. She leaned back on her hands, staring upward with wild delight. Felix hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to her. She looked at him and smiled, her face radiant, her magic glowing faintly.
“See?” she said eagerly, pointing towards the horizon. “Just there – Astoriel, the last star in the Serpent’s tail. Oh, and the Dragon is so bright here! Look at all the little stars that make up the wing shape! I have never seen them this clearly!”
Felix smiled, then laid back on the grass beside her, folding his arms under his head. His gaze drifted up to the night sky. “Only someone like you could see serpents and dragons in the sky,” he murmured.
Her head turned toward him, eyes wide with surprise. “What do you mean? You’ve never learned the constellations?”
Felix frowned, glancing at her. “Constellations?”
“Yes! Doesn’t everyone learn them?” Her brows drew together in confusion.
Felix grimaced. “I’m afraid my education was not especially academic, Isa.”
She scowled and looked ready to launch into a lecture but stopped herself.
Instead, her voice softened. “Sorry. I forget sometimes.” She gestured at the sky.
“Scholars many centuries ago drew shapes between the stars to better be able to document the night sky and to help sailors and travellers navigate. They called those shapes constellations. If you know which stars to look for, they can tell you which direction you are going. That” – she laid down next to him and pointed upward – “up there is the Sword. You can see the three stars in a straight line – that’s the hilt.
Then the small cluster to the left of it is the pommel… ”
“And the row on the other side is the blade,” Felix finished, tracing the shape with his eyes. He glanced at her face, catching her brightest smile yet .
“Yes!” she said, her enthusiasm infectious.
He smiled back, then returned his gaze to the stars.
“What about the triangle over there?” He gestured, and she leaned in close to track his line of sight, her body brushing against his.
“Oh, that’s the Arcane Warden. And next to it is its counterpart; they go together.
If you follow the row of stars there, from the triangle’s left side.
But I forgot the name of that one.” She grew quiet.
Her face was pensive, pondering something.
“Don’t get broody,” he said, drawing her attention back. She gave him a small, almost shy smile before sitting up.
Perhaps it was the drink making him a little bold, but he gently took hold of her arm and pulled her back down beside him. “Teach me more constellators,” he insisted.
Her lips twitched. “Constellations,” she corrected.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Pretty star shapes. Teach me.”
She laughed and settled in, pointing out the patterns one by one, weaving stories in the night sky. Felix listened intently, his gaze flickering between her and the endless stars.
A while later, her voice tapered off. Felix was pleasantly drowsy.
He was acutely aware of Isolde next to him, the warmth of her body, the faint pulse of her magic.
He wanted to lower his arm and wrap it around her, pull her closer.
What he knew he should do was tell her to go back to her tent and get some sleep.
Before he could muster the will to move, though, she turned her head towards him, her eyes bright and searching.
“Why didn’t you kill me that night?”
Felix froze. “What?” he managed, the question catching him completely off guard.
“At the midsummer ball,” she said softly, “when… it happened. That mage told you to kill me. Why didn’t you?” Her expression held no accusation, only curiosity.
He studied her face for a long moment before he replied. “I don’t claim to be some kind of hero, but I’m also not in the business of cutting down defenceless people where they stand, Isa. I’m a mercenary, not an executioner.” His exact words to her father, what felt like a lifetime ago.
If it comes to that… If there is no other way…
He pushed the memory away.
“You’ve never talked about what happened,” he said quietly. “At the ball.”
She looked up at the stars again with a small frown. “I don’t remember it clearly,” she said at last. “At first, it was just a ball, like all the others. I helped Otto with the decorations. He’s one of our stewards,” she added. “He’s amazing with flowers – can make them bloom with a touch…”
Felix stayed quiet, studying her face.
“Some other ladies and I were watching the mages’ ritual,” she continued.
“I got to the front – I was desperate to see the magic up close… When they were about to pour into the wine, it was so strange; it was like I was… outside myself. The ley line glowed, and I think the mages saw it too, and they broke their spell, and then…” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard.
“The floor shook and everything went white. It hurt, like being stabbed, but it also felt… good? It… gathered – I gathered it – until I could no longer hold it all.”
She paused, drawing a shuddering breath.
“I don’t remember what happened after that.
I know I fell. And I know you were there.
I saw you standing in front of me, holding out your hand.
” She paused again, her gaze downcast. “Six people died, because of me. I thought I would kill you, too –” Her voice was small, her eyes shining.
Felix decided against remarking that he had killed a lot more than six people, and the ones who died at the midsummer ball were probably all jerks who deserved it, anyway.
Instead, he reached over and gently wiped away the single tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Hey,” he said softly, “it will be alright.”
“There is something important at the Nexus.” She looked back up towards the stars. “It… needs my help, I think. When I stood on the ley line… I saw so much, Felix, but I did not understand any of it. Only that there was something very wrong. I think… I think many people like me have died there.”
“People like you?”
“Leytouched.” It was the first time he had heard her say the word .
“We will figure it out,” he said. “Whatever it is you need to do, we’ll find a way.”