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

name is Scree, isn’t it?”
    Suddenly everything came back, in an avalanche of images. The night on Hallia’s Peak, and that vision in the starless sky. The unicorn. The evil flower. And the bloodred shard, turning to smoke in Tam’s hand.
    Scree’s eyesight cleared. He was in a nest, huge and deep in the manner of all eaglefolk. Feathers of every size, some as long as his own arms, lay everywhere on the logs and branches that intertwined around him, as well as the table, chairs, and chests made of sinew-lashed wood. But instead of the usual gnawed bones and bits of shell common to eaglefolk’s nests, this place looked exceptionally clean. And against one wall stood three large cabinets, their shelves packed full of vials, bowls, strainers, splints, bandages of all sizes, and numerous tools for mixing and measuring potions.
    A healer , he thought. So that’s who she is.
    “Arc-kaya,” he demanded, “just how long have I been here?”
    She continued to unravel the bandages. “Well, let’s see now. It’s been three days.”
    “Three days!”
    He started to sit up—but his head exploded with pain, as if a boulder had been dropped right on his skull. With a groan, he fell back on the feather-cushioned logs beneath him, his bare chest heaving from exertion.
    “Shackle my shells,” he panted, his head still pounding. “Hurts just to move.”
    “Patience, Scree,” said Arc-kaya, clacking her teeth, beaklike. “You’ll be weaker than a hatchling for several more days, if not weeks.”
    “Weeks?” His eyes flashed like golden orbs. “But I must—” He tried again to sit up, but fell back right away. “Must go . . .”
    “Now, now. You’ll not be going anywhere soon.”
    “But Tamwyn! He needs me.”
    “That dark-haired human who brought you? He’s gone now. Left yesterday, after he was sure you’d recover.”
    “Left? That stump-headed fool! He’s gone without me.”
    She began carefully peeling off the bottom layer of bandaging. “He did seem in a great hurry—like most humans. Though why anyone in his right mind would want to go anywhere with a crazy hoolah tagging along, I don’t know.”
    Her hands paused. “He did say something odd, though. About finding the route before it’s too late. Just where is he going?”
    “The stars,” groaned Scree. “He’s trying to find some way to reach them.”
    “The stars! That’s pure folly.”
    “And pure Tam. He left before I revived enough to talk, since he knew I’d do everything I could to—”
    “Stop him,” finished Arc-kaya. “That’s sensible.”
    “No, to join him.”
    She turned and peered at him with her large eyes. “Maybe you are still delirious.”
    Scree didn’t answer. What was the point? He turned his cheek against the pair of silver feathers that made his pillow. His fool brother!
    Outside the arching walls of the nest, he could hear the sounds of village life: eaglefolk laughing, arguing, or screeching as they landed; young fledglings scampering after one another; someone ruffling feathered wings, preparing to fly. Those sounds seemed so normal here, so ordinary. And yet they were so far away from his own solitary experience.
    Arc-kaya, having gone back to work on his leg, removed the last strip of bandage. She whistled with concern. “Such a savage wound you have here! What gave this to you? A barbed spear?”
    “No. A flower.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Either you’re toying with me, Scree, or you’re wounded even more badly than I thought.”
    He turned his head so their gazes met. “That’s the truth, Arc-kaya. You don’t have to believe me, but it is. There are new kinds of evil out there in the world, more than you can imagine.”
    She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You know, for some reason I do believe you. Maybe it’s because you remind me of someone.”
    “Who?”
    “Someone I lost.”
    Though her words made him curious, he didn’t press her any further.
    Arc-kaya, meanwhile, reached for a stone