Page 1 of Fallen from the Stars

Chapter 1

364 Years After Landing

Fire had fallen from the sky.

Vasil gave chase; he sped through restless waters, sweeping his arms to the sides, flaring his tentacles wide and snapping them together. He lifted his head above the surface as often as possible to keep the fiery object’s trail in sight without sacrificing speed, but he was not quick enough — the smoke overhead grew wispier and more indistinct with each passing moment, hastened by the strengthening wind. It would dissipate entirely before long, and he would lose his only chance to locate the mysterious object.

He’d kept his den on land for nearly two years, and in that time, he’d never seen anything like what he’d experienced on the beach — a streak of orange fire blasting overhead that had briefly illuminated the sand as though it were a warm, sunny afternoon and seemed to set the water ablaze for a few heated moments. His knowledge of the surface world was limited, but fire did not fall from above. Wind came from the sky, and water when it rained, butnotfire.

What was it? Had a star fallen from the night sky? He could recall one of the humans explaining to Arkon that the stars were distant balls of fire, but Vasil had not been directly involved in the conversation.Coulda star plummet from its place overhead?

If so, what did it mean?

Heneededto know what the thing was despite his misgivings; taking to open water after nightfall alone was foolish, but curiosity had overpowered his good sense.

Sea swells rose and fell around him, creating ever-changing peaks and valleys that only grew more pronounced as Vasil left land farther behind. The unease in his gut intensified and seeped into his bones. It solidified into cold, heavy dread as the sea became choppier and the smoke further faded.

Vasil rode a swell to its peak and scanned his surroundings. The sea was dark gray beneath an inky black sky, barely reflecting the twinkling starlight overhead. Water stretched to the horizon in all directions save one — dark clouds blotted out the sky to his left, creating the illusion that the water was clawing its way skyward to swallow the heavens. Flashes of lightning pulsed through the distant clouds, highlighting the enormity of the coming storm. Thunder followed a few heartbeats later, its rumbling vibrating through him to resonate with the icy dread harbored at his core.

The collapsing swell plunged him into a shadowy valley, limiting his view to the surrounding walls of water, the stars overhead, and a lingering span of the smoke trail.

He couldn’t guess how long he’d been swimming; Vasil knew only that land was far behind him. He’d not reach The Watch before the storm struck even if he turned around now. Whether the fiery object awaited just beyond the next swell or somewhere beyond the horizon, he’d have no choice but to seek shelter on the ocean floor tonight until the weather subsided and the sea calmed.

His body ached from the exertion of his frantic pursuit, but he would not allow his efforts to be wasted.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward. The ocean tossed him up and down with increasing agitation and force, a precursor of what was to come, but he clung to his determination. He would use every available moment before he was forced to abandon his hunt.

The one occasion upon which he’d favored curiosity over caution had quickly become a dangerous situation. He was sure the humans had a word or a colorful expression for what he was experiencing; this seemed like a bad joke, made in poor taste and at Vasil’s expense, but that word didn’t feel right.

Fresh thunder boomed over the ocean, so deep and powerful it seemed it would crack open the sky and pour all the remaining stars onto Halora in a rain of silver fire. Instinct demanded Vasil seek shelter, but he had time to push a little farther.

He adjusted the rhythm of his tentacles to keep his head above water as he rode the next swell toward its peak. The smoke trail was at its thinnest thus far; stars shone through its ghostly form, which was only a shade or two lighter than the darkness beyond.

Howling wind whipped stinging moisture into his face. As he reached the apex of the swell, he swept his gaze over the tumultuous sea, searching for even the smallest sign of something in the water. Storm clouds loomed on the edge of his vision, closer than before. Disconcerting energy charged the air, crackling across his exposed skin.

Something flashed in the water — a brief reflection of starlight, even more fleeting than a lightning strike.

The water fell, obscuring Vasil’s view of the object. Whatever it was, it had been relatively close, but that could change rapidly in these conditions. Vasil was at the mercy of wind and sea. Even with him swimming his hardest, it was possible the sea would only carry the object farther and farther away. He could chase it through the night and never draw nearer if the sea chose to toy with him.

He pushed onward, demanding more from his strained muscles. He’d come this far. He would not surrender.

Each time he crested a swell, he sought the object, and he was rewarded with occasional flickers of reflected starlight or glimpses of something paler than the surrounding water. He adjusted his course upon each sighting, battling powerful, conflicting currents to draw a little closer, one body length at a time.

With each beat of his hearts, the storm also drew closer.

As he sank into the next valley, the object descended an opposing swell directly ahead.

A flash of lightning covered the object in hard light for an instant. It was rounded and oblong with a reflective circle near the front. The object floated on the waves, ringed by dark, bulbous protrusions around its base — flotation sacs of some sort. The ghostly afterimage of its reflective surface lingered in his vision for several moments after darkness returned, drifting through his sight as the booming thunder reached into his chest and squeezed his hearts.

Rain began suddenly, falling in a relentless torrent that further limited his already obscured view.

Vasil did not allow his head to dip below the surface. He swam against the sea’s pull with all his remaining strength and latched onto the object’s flotation sacs with his tentacles once it was within reach.

The object itself was larger than him, well more than a body’s length from one end to the other and almost half as tall — comparable in size to some of the middling fishing boats back in The Watch. Though he wasn’t entirely sure about human measurements, he guessed this to be about five meters from front to back. It appeared entirely sealed above the water’s surface. He pressed a hand to its side. If it was metal, it did not feel like any metal with which he was familiar; this seemed somehow smoother and denser.

More lightning flared in the sky, illuminating strange symbols on the object’s side. They resembled the symbols used in human writing he’d seen at both The Watch and the Facility, but they were disrupted by dark marks that must’ve been caused by the fire.

The thunder’s rumbling vibrated through the mysterious object.

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