Page 3 of Sea of Stars

I awoke to the sound of bottles rattling. I blinked a few times, waiting for the room to come into focus. Swishel was hobbling around her hut throwing things inside a knapsack. She looked so thin in her baggy, worn leather robes. Her long white hair gave away her age, as did the wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes and mouth. I wasn't exactly sure how old she was, but divinares lived a long time. If I was to guess, I'd say she was in her early hundreds. I had asked Swishel her age once, but she said she had forgotten to keep track. She had a slight hunch in her back, which made her move awkwardly as she wandered around the room.

Swishel’s hut was one of my favorite places in the prison. I was always allowed to sleep here and recuperate for as long as I wanted after being whipped, unless another divinare got lashed and needed the bed more than me. Mortwar never came anywhere near the healer's hut. I secretly thought it was because he was scared of crazy, old Swishel. But the best part was getting to hear Swishel’s stories of living outside the Iron Gates. I would fantasize about her old village and try to imagine what it would be like to live outside these walls again.

“It’s time, it’s time,” Swishel mumbled to herself. I had never seen her with so much energy before. I couldn’t tell if she was excited or terrified. She was looking through her collection of books and strange bottles, clearly intent on finding something in particular.

I glanced through the tattered curtains and saw the moon still shining outside. I yawned and Swishel’s head snapped toward me. The wild intensity remained in her eyes, sending a chill down my spine. I sat up slowly as she came over to me. My hand crept up my back and touched the blood-drenched bandages. I looked up just in time to catch the knapsack that Swishel dropped onto my lap. One bottle teetered out of the top and fell onto the ground with a crash. A cloud of white powder puffed up from the broken bottle, but Swishel didn’t seem to care about the contents. She just kept moving around nervously.

“You have to go.” Swishel looked shaken, like she’d seen a ghost. “It’s time, it’s time,” she repeated under her breath, as she pulled her cloak tightly around her.

“Can I at least spend the night?”

Swishel just stared at me, her eyes wide.

“Are you okay, Swishel? Maybe you should lie down,” I said. Swishel had always been a bit odd, but her behavior tonight was more bizarre than ever.

She grasped my arm fiercely and pulled me toward the window. “You don’t understand, this is your last chance.” She pulled the curtains closed and ripp

ed at my robes. The room was bathed in darkness.

I grabbed at my clothes, but then froze. The left side of the room was suddenly full of pale blue light. I turned and saw the light symbols dance along the dirt walls, dousing all the books with a strange glow. The markings that seemed to shimmer in the lake were now ablaze.

“It will only get worse from here,” she said to herself as she pulled out some clothes from a drawer and handed them to me. “We must hurry.”

“Wait, what do you mean worse?” I stammered. “What’s happening to me? Why am I glowing?!”

A smile spread across Swishel’s face. “Mahlia, nothing is wrong with you. You are blessed with the gift of the Moira.”

I blinked and stared at her. “The gift of the what?” I asked, my eyebrows knit.

“The gift of the Moira, child. Many years ago, all divinares were blessed with this power. But no one has been born with it in many years.” She smiled kindly at me, the harsh look in her eyes momentarily gone. “Your mother should have told you the secrets of our people. She would have done anything to protect you. You look just like her, you know. I’m sorry, young one, but I do not have time to explain. Mortwar will want to see you in the morning now that your symbols are starting to show. He’s been waiting a long time for this.” She pushed the knapsack back into my hands. “Everything you need is in here. Everything you want to know is in here,” she added after seeing my expression. “Now follow me.”

I pulled on the leather pants she had handed me and tied them at the top. They were just like the ones I used to wear before I came to the Iron Gates, except these had loose seams in the front that created a small strip that my skin showed through. It was nice to be out of the tattered leather robes that all the prisoners wore. They were meant to keep us warm during the harsh winter months, but they were worn thin and never kept me from shivering. Grabbing my tattered leather boots from the ground, I shoved my feet into them. I put the white shirt on and tied two strings, causing it to cinch over my breasts with a ruffled effect. My mother had worn similar shirts. Ignoring everything else Swishel had just said, I asked: “You knew my mother?”

Swishel had never talked to me about my mother before. As far as I knew, she didn't even know my parents had died.

Swishel’s body tensed, and her voice grew solemn, “We were from the same village. She tried to warn us of what was to come. The gift of the Moira had been absent for so many years, though. None of us believed, except for your father, of course,” her voice cut off. “But I understand now. I know you have the gift, just like her, and it is unfolding. We are out of time." Swishel grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the fading moonlight. “Mortwar will thrash you until you have no skin left. And then he will kill you. I have seen it done.” She nodded her head up and down like she had no will to stop.

I gulped. I continued following her until we reached a portion of the gate close to her hut. Swishel turned toward me, suddenly looking even older. “Run as fast and as far as you can.” She pulled the light blue cloak from her shoulders and draped it around mine.

“Can’t you come with me, Swishel?”

“I will only slow you down. And, Mahlia,” she said as her fingers searched along the fence. She was distracted for a second as she pulled a section of one of the poles out and pushed me through the hole. I turned to face her one last time. The intensity had returned to her eyes. “Trust no one,” she hissed. She placed the portion of the gate back in place and hobbled back toward her hut, her head still nodding up and down.

"Swishel?" I whispered loudly, grabbing onto the cold iron bars. But she kept walking. Didn't she realize that she had to come with me? I didn't care if she slowed me down, I didn't even know where to go without her help. But Swishel was far away now. The door swung shut behind her as she disappeared into her hut.

"Jeremody," I whispered into the silent night. "No, no, no." While information about my mother and the gift of the Moira had swirled around in my mind I had forgotten about Jeremody. Swishel may have let me bring him with me. If I called out his name I would surely wake Mortwar and the others, but I couldn't leave him behind. I felt along the fence to find the loose section of the bar.

Caw, caw!

The crow's shrill call made my hair stand on end. Mortwar's pet was out on patrol. If I went back for Jeremody I would be caught by the forge crow. My hands fell from the cold iron bars. Even if I had gone back for Jeremody, he wouldn't be able to come with me. He would already be locked into our hut for the night.

I stared at the iron bars separating me from the camp. I never thought I’d be on the other side, wishing to go back in. "I'll come back to free you, Jeremody. I'll come back for all of you. I promise." I wrapped Swishel's cloak tightly around me and backed up slowly, still facing Mortwar's camp. All I knew was that I had to get far away from this prison. I turned around and began to run as fast as I could.

Chapter 2

My heart was beating so rapidly that it was hard to hear anything except for it pounding. I hadn’t been this far from the Iron Gates since I was a child. Once I had run a safe distance, I turned and looked at the immense fence, nestled firmly between the black mountains with their rigid peaks. The Forge Mountains were so tall that their peaks were usually covered with snow year round. The white peaks made the mountains appear even taller because they collided and disappeared into the white clouds above. Vengeance Peak, the tallest point of the mountain range, loomed behind the brutarian camp. The entrance gates to Mortwar's prison camp stood directly in the middle of the fence. Even from this distance I could see the iron-coated skulls of tortured divinares that lined the top of the gate.

Beyond the fence I could see the dozens of small mud huts clustered together to one side. At nightfall, Mortwar or one of his minions would come around and lock us into our huts so that we couldn't escape while they slept. All the divinares were grouped into huts based on age. Mortwar did anything he could to encourage us to have children. He was eager to get more prisoners. I had sworn to never succumb to his wish, though. If I ever had children, they would not be born in that terrible place. Luckily Jeremody agreed with me, because everyone in our hut had separated into pairs, and that left Jeremody and me together. But even if we wouldn't grant Mortwar his wish, we really were still a pair. We did everything together. It was hard to be outside the Iron Gates and know he was still imprisoned inside.

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