Under a Starless Sky

Chapter 12

Candace was sitting by the water’s edge, lotus pose, meditating. There were two girls her age, sparring with bamboo. They stopped and blocked him from coming closer.

“What do you want, ghost,” the one said.

“I just wanted to talk to Candace. I am her brother,” Shen said.

“There’s no way you’re her brother,” the other said. “You’re not right. Did you fall in bleach?”

“Candace?” Shen asked.

“Don’t summon her,” the other said. “She is far walking.”

“She’s meditating,” Shen said.

“Go away,” the

I

in and removed the empty jars he had been given to collect honey. There was a rather good size hive nearby which was another reason to maintain this camp. Lower tent was draped over a rope between two trees. One of the trees was near enough to another tree he could climb using one for feet one for his back, and second tent was far enough off the ground the Irk couldn’t get him if he overslept into morning. He had carried

couple of crude ramps bridging some of the further gaps, and vine rope, which was simply twisting three vines together, so he had a guide connecting his path. One place he used a vine to swing to the next tree, which always amused him enough he felt good about himself. At the

outer rock face of the mountain North, and braced the Sleeping Forest through the darkness until the light returned, he would come to a river. It varied from creek, to full blown river. The water was always cold. During the times the river was shallow, he would explore the mud and invariably find crystals. He had kept some, traded some. He was not sure why no one else had explored this area, as it was reasonably accessible by the

They would chase a torch. They would chase

sat by the fire, his back up against his egg, hoping it was still good. He entertained fantasies of being there at hatching, ‘imprinting’ himself as the parent, and one day riding into the village on the back of a fully grown Irk. He didn’t like killing rabbits, but he had made a rabbit pin and he now had a dozen rabbits in his care. They were angora rabbits and there fur was valuable, and he wished he had electric sheers. He would likely have to kill them to feed

place he usually sat, and some of the picture were attached to the branch, literally pushing the branch through the paper so her pictures hung. No matter which way you came at the branch, you would see Loxy’s

this out and burn it. He spent a whole day drawing with a stick on the dirt floor trying to get at it. When he had sleep, he dreamed of a place with three mountains. Maybe mountain, three tops. A lake in the middle of the three mountains led to three water falls. The heart of Sinter was under

another noise. Quiet. He spoke. A low oscillation emitted from the egg, not

keep the fire steady. He eventually had to go to collect water. He went to first tent, ate honey. He went to the orchard, and harvested for the caretaker and got his fill of fallen fruit, and returned to first, where he spent the night because of just being tired. When he got to the cave the next day, he found the empty egg. Wilson branch was knocked over, Loxy drawing scattered. The fire was out, ashes and wood scattered. The rabbit pin was busted. There was evidence two rabbits had been eaten. There was feather evidence that what had had hatched was male. He followed a trail, but

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