Free Shadows on the Stars by T. A. Barron Page A

here thinks we’ll see her again.”
    “Hmmmpff,” growled Nuic. “Just as we’ll see plagues and hurricanes again.”
    “Enough,” said Elli as she rose to her feet. “It’s time to go.”
    “Where?” asked Brionna with a shake of her braid.
    “To the Lady.” Her eyes gleamed with determination as she turned, kicking some wood chips across the floor. Then she bent and whispered to the motionless form on the cot, “And I’ll come back with your cure, I promise.”
    Ever so lightly, she touched the old woman’s brow. In a whisper, she spoke, as if Coerria could really hear. “There’s a song that my father taught me a long time ago:
    “ Avalon lives! The last place to keep
All the songs of Creation alive.
Sing every note—sing high and deep:
Voices uplifted shall thrive;
Singers themselves shall survive. ”
    She drew a long, slow breath. “Please survive, Coerria. Please.”
    Lleu stood up. He brushed some wood chips off his shoulder, then gazed warmly at Elli. “You know,” he said, touching her arm, “that look on your face just now reminded me of someone.”
    Puzzled, she blinked up at him.
    “Your father.”
    She blushed. “Really?”
    He nodded. “He was my best friend, you know. Saved my skin many a time during our days as young priests.” Then, his voice soft, he added, “Maybe that’s why I’m going to come with you.”
    She started. “But what about Coerria?”
    “There’s nothing more I can do for her now. Uzzzula here has been pouring fresh water on her tongue, and mopping her brow with eucalyptus leaves, several times a day. Beyond that, whatever might help her only the Lady can provide.”
    “Then,” declared Elli as she clenched her fists, “let’s go get it.”

7 • Arc-kaya
    When Scree awoke, his memory was as hazy as his vision. Where the frill-feathers was he? And how did he get here?
    He blinked his large, yellow-rimmed eyes, but everything still looked blurry. Then, drawing a fitful breath, he caught some familiar smells. Eagles’ feathers. Broken shells. Droppings. Timbers scraped raw by talons.
    He knew those smells, from the nests of other eaglefolk. And from his own childhood, those days when he’d felt the touch of his true mother—days that had ended all too quickly. For she’d been felled by the arrows of some murderous men. Since then, practically all his life, he hadn’t lived in nests like the rest of his kind, but in caves of fire-scorched rock, out of reach from anyone or anything.
    Except his longings. In the years that he had lived all alone, trying to protect Merlin’s staff, he’d often yearned for some clear idea of his purpose in life. And even more, he’d yearned for some companionship—especially from his brother Tamwyn and from the eaglemother he’d known so briefly. She often visited him in his dreams, soaring overhead with her wide, powerful wings, or calling to him with her rich, screeching voice, part human and part eagle.
    A face appeared before him now, fuzzy at the edges but distinctly that of an eaglewoman. Like Scree, she was in human form, and she peered down at him, her fierce yellow eyes showing a hint of softness. Long gray hair, as fluffy as a fledgling’s feathers, fell over her shoulders.
    “M-mother?” he croaked in disbelief.
    She smiled, wrinkles curving like talons around her eyes. “No, no, I am not your mother.” She frowned and added in a whisper, “Though I was once someone else’s.” She cleared her throat. “My name is Arc-kaya.”
    Gently she placed the palm of her hand on his forehead. “Good. The fever’s a bit less.”
    “Fever?”
    “You were badly wounded when you came here to the village Iye Kalakya—carried by a human and a hoolah, of all creatures. They said you’d lost a lot of blood, in addition to ripping most of the muscles in your thigh. And you’ve been delirious with fever ever since you arrived.”
    She moved away and started to unwrap the layers of bandages on his leg. “Your