How the Stars did Fall Read online

  In the morning Olivia awoke to Jason standing over the ruin of the fire. His eyes were darkened as if he had not slept at all and on his shoulders were more pebbles, alive and moving, of varying sizes and shapes as if he had spent the better part of the night working on them. Olivia thought about asking about their names but the graveness of his face dissuaded her.

  “You’re awake,” he said. “Good. Eat and let’s move on.”

  She ate as fast as she could and returned to the road, finding Moon already tied to the cart and Jason stooped upon the horse, pensive. The pebbles traversed the wide body of the animal, and before Olivia could climb up into the saddle she had to make sure she would not sit on top of one of them by accident. All through their journey, Jason barely acknowledged Olivia’s presence and she began to think that he might have taken her rejection of him poorly. But unable to do much about that, Olivia directed her thoughts to the matters at hand, asking Jason how much longer until they reached their destination as it had been marked by Luke on the map.

  “Not long,” he said.

  Again they rode until sundown and Jason told Olivia they would keep going for as long as the light allowed.

  “The forest should be right ahead.”

  And it was. It appeared almost out of nowhere, right after a curve in the road had begun to set them on a northern trajectory. The densely packed trees barred them from riding in, so Jason ordered the horse to a stop right at the edge and took a skin of water and drank from it in a series of little gulps. Then he offered the water to Olivia. Once she had her fill, Olivia removed Moon’s gag and offered it to her. The Indian refused the water, instead starting on a long rant about where they thought they were going, for she knew that forest. All of her people knew it because it was in that grove that the sacred rocks of Oushanis had been gathered and set in unison with the sky. Hearing her tirade, Jason’s pebbles all drew back in horror, hiding themselves in the pockets of Jason’s shirt and trousers. He took the skin of water from Olivia and corked it, putting it back in his pack. Then he bent down to where Moon lay all tied up and covered her mouth up again, but her moaning continued unabated, only muffled and incoherent.

  They walked the rest of the way, Jason leading the horse by its reins and Moon squirming and screaming from behind the gag as if she were being carried to her doom and all the trees stood as witnesses to the work of her executioners. As the last of the day died out, Jason took out a pair of wooden torches, and with his flint and steel he lit them, giving one to Olivia and keeping the other for himself. At first the pebbles feared the fire and hid from it, all except Jupiter, who had seen fire before and had grown to love its warmth. And seeing the bravery of one of their own, the other pebbles soon joined Jupiter, taking their places on Jason’s shoulders. Even with the light of the torches, it would have been easy to lose their way. Jason knew which direction he had to go but not much else, so he made sure they never deviated, keeping a compass in his pocket, bringing it out now and again to make sure he had not inadvertently changed course. They walked for one hour, two, before the forest became less dense and the towering canopies of leaves and branches above gave way to the light of the stars and the moon, and Jason, freed from the burden of cutting through thick foliage and navigating around wide trees, increased their walking pace.

  Not long after that the forest gave way completely, opening up in a clearing, and Olivia knew they had arrived. Jason tied the horse to one of the trees on the edge of the clearing and took hold of Moon by the ropes that shackled her, pulling her down from the cart and dragging her recalcitrant body forward towards the massive pillars of sandstone that loomed ahead. He dragged her until both of them had entered into the circle and then he let go and touched one of the pillars, feeling it out ahead of time as if he wanted to get to know the stone before proceeding. Then he went on to another stone but this time Olivia could tell he was trying to bring it to life, his effort visible in his posture and contracted muscles. But nothing happened. So he turned to Moon.

  “I am to bring these stones to life,” he said while lowering her gag to her neck. “How do I do it? I was told you are the key. Tell me how to do it.”

  Moon looked on in horror as full understanding of what Jason’s purpose was entered into her mind. From that point on she said nothing, taking the opportunity to spit on the boy repeatedly until he reluctantly had to secure the gag over her mouth again.

  “What do you think?” Jason asked Olivia.

  Olivia held her torch up close to one of the rocks and examined it. Then she passed her hand over it, feeling it warm under the gaze of the fire. She found no answer in the stones themselves, so she took a seat next to Moon on the ground and spoke to the Indian softly.

  “I understand this place is sacred to you. But it is only one place among many others. I don’t precisely know what all of this means, but I’ve gathered that Lynch or Chogthan or whatever his name is intends to create more sacred places. Real sacred places that will make this grove feel like a distant echo. Places where a woman may travel to and find out whether her heart may be set upon a higher course or whether she be doomed to the low regions of the cosmos, where the greatest pleasures are forgone for tiny, brief ones.”

  Moon looked up as if she had understood at least some portion of what Olivia had said and then she motioned with her head for Olivia to come closer. And Olivia did, already reaching for the gag, hoping that she had been able to convince Moon to help. But before she could undo the gag, Moon drew herself back and then leaped forward headfirst, striking Olivia right in the face. No blood was drawn but Olivia did fall to the ground, more out of surprise than from the strength of the blow. But something overshadowed the pain she felt. It was the briefest sensation. She had felt it only for that tiniest moment when Moon’s skin had touched hers. A sensation of unlimited and unbridled power, convincing her for that fleeting moment that with her power she could turn the very earth into water. Immediately Olivia understood what she and Jason had to do and instead of telling him, she decided to show him.

  And with her hands she grabbed on to Moon’s flesh and, as she predicted, that same sensation returned greater even than before. With it came a sense that underneath her deep underground were vast reservoirs of pure water hidden in the folds of the earth in complete darkness, and as she began to manipulate these pockets of wondrous water the earth began to shake. Jason looked around as if questioning the very air around him as to the cause of the quake, only to find Olivia on the ground hugging Moon. Then as the shaking intensified Olivia had to draw back some of her power so that the rush of water would not overwhelm her and she and Jason and Moon would not cause the ruin of all that land. Instead, she focused and allowed the water to rush upwards and escape out of the earth only in a few spots, and the water did erupt from the ground like geysers, the force enough to propel it higher than any building, nearly high enough to reach the clouds above. After that, Olivia let go of Moon and the water receded back down into the chasms, leaving those subterranean seas once again at rest. Jason, observing the whole scene, had by now understood what had happened and he happily took Olivia’s place next to Moon so that he might complete his mission.

  Olivia could only imagine what he felt when he touched Moon, but she could see the results as the nine stones that surrounded them began to tremble in the moonlight as if summoned, and all at once legs and arms and a head sprouted from each one and eyes and a mouth and cracks opened up on the surface of their bodies, each one in different patterns, unique symbols by which to distinguish one from the other. One of them had concentric circles appear on him as if carved by hand, the other triangles within triangles. All of them arose together, closing in the circle, and they looked up at the moon and roared together—not an animal roar but more like the chortling of rusting machinery—and then all together they stood at attention, facing Jason as if awaiting his orders.

  All of this Moon watched, tears flowing from her eyes, for she believed that the destruction of Ousha
nis signaled the end of all the world, yet not even in her wildest imaginings or those of any of her countrymen had the end played out in such depravity, such wanton and unnatural necromancy, contorting the sacred stones into grotesque aberrations. Living yet not.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Good Man’s army passed a ridge within sight of Fort Tancredo. They marched one after the other, their rifles held tight against their chests, their eyes continually scanning the horizon for enemies. And behind the largest group of conscripts, the artillery came wheeling forward. Daniel rode near the rear of the company but as soon as they reached the fort, he rode up and found the Good Man staring in disbelief at the sight ahead.

  “What’s the matter?” Daniel asked.

  The Good Man only gestured for Daniel to go forth and see for himself, and Daniel moved past the open gate and into the fort and found it abandoned. Not a living soul in sight barring a few maimed soldiers limping here and there.

  “They’ve abandoned the battlefield?” Daniel asked.

  “It appears so. Or someone forced them to retreat.”

  “Seems unlikely. This does not bode well.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Could mean they’ve been reinforced and are circling our position in order to flank us.”

  “Unless we made them retreat. Perhaps we overestimated Fillmore.”

  “Unlikely. It is certainly not a move I would make.”

  “Nor I. No reason to when you can hide behind these walls.”

  “In any case, we’ll occupy the fort tonight and let the scouts figure out where Fillmore’s army is.”

  They entered the fort together along with a portion of the Good Man’s most able men, leaving the bulk of the force to camp out in the fields. Inside, they found all manner of supply and equipment left behind untouched as if they were no longer needed, and they found sick and maimed soldiers inside the buildings, some still alive and hiding and others long since passed, having bled out or died of thirst or hunger. The Good Man had those still alive brought out, lined up against the wall of the fort and executed one by one.

  Once the executions had ceased, a different troop of soldiers came and carried the bodies away. These soldiers placed the bodies in a single mound just outside the fort, and taking shovels, they spent the rest of the day and much of the night digging one giant grave of a depth and width that would fit all of the dead. Then they threw the bodies in, several at a time, swinging them into the pit by the legs and arms like sacks of wheat or barley, their flesh already rotting, the smell unbearable.

  During that time, the Good Man found colonel Fillmore’s stock of whiskey and had by now drained several bottles with Daniel and the other officers while the moon hung high above them like a reluctant witness to the acts of men as she traversed the curvature of the cosmos. It was to the moon that the Good Man made his first toast, extolling her many virtues to those who followed The Way—for, as he explained it, her position in the sky had a profound influence on the glands. There was an unbreakable and invisible string connecting us to that body above and no vision could be imparted even to the Good Man himself without authorization from up there.

  As the drinking continued, the men fell deeper into their stupors and the Good Man stood among them as the chief of all drunks, his frock coat soiled by his slobbering, for the drink had affected his coordination and often he would begin to speak before he had fully swallowed and out the liquid would come like weeping tears. And as he spoke all fell silent.

  “Of all the cities in the world it was in San Francisco that I was sent to bring The Way. Not a coincidence, that. Providence has a way of finding its way to the right people. So we sit here in mirth and tranquility not because we have won today, but because we won yesterday and we will win tomorrow and the day after that like conquering gods.”

  Hearing this, everyone cheered, the men stamping their glasses upon the tables and their feet upon the floor. Daniel joined in somewhat reluctantly, his lukewarm enthusiasm disguised by the drunken throng. The Good Man laughed along with these outbursts, great pleasure evident in his manner, and Daniel thought he detected something sexual about the Good Man’s control over the men, not at all overt but there.

  That night after all of the whiskey had been consumed and the Good Man retired to the colonel’s cabin, young boys were brought in under cover of darkness, roped together and hooded. Daniel stood watch when they came in. He allowed the gate of the fort to be opened so that they could enter. Some part of him felt guilty, condemned even, for not stopping them right there. But he soon rationalized that guilt away by telling himself that if he did not do it someone else would.

  But another thought countered that one as Daniel watched the boys ushered into the cabin and then ushered out, sans one of their number, back to the camp set up only for them outside the walls. What if that one boy that had been him? Or his brother? What would he do then?

  Now Daniel strode atop the walls of the fort, stopping here and there to inspect and salute the watchmen, until at the northern side of the wall he saw something like a moving shadow in the periphery of his vision. It had wide wings, wider than those of any bird Daniel had ever known to exist, green skin like a serpent and two heads—one like a man’s, the other beastly, like the progeny of a bear and a lion. It fell upon the wall of the fort with terrible speed and Daniel stumbled backwards, discovering that whatever it was, it did not actually have two heads, but that a man rode upon it.

  Even in that darkness, Daniel could recognize his brother’s face.

  “Brother,” Faraday said as he reached down to help Daniel up.

  But Daniel could not stop looking at the winged monster and Adler, noticing this, changed his shape, taking again the form of a man.

  “We haven’t much time, Daniel. On the way here, we flew over an army of some five thousand men headed this way. You must surrender.”

  “Surrender? I’m not surrendering to anyone. Besides, I’m not in command here.”

  “This is what he wants. For you to fight each other, one faction weakening the other, so that he may bring order out of the chaos.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Just take my hand, Daniel.”

  Daniel finally took his brother’s hand but before he could prop himself up, a wave of nausea afflicted him and he found himself transported into another plane, another body. Looking down, Daniel saw that he now had small hands, like a child’s, and stood no more than four feet off the ground. And he felt his consciousness slowly diminish, as if the body of a child demanded the mind of a child. This change more than anything caused Daniel to panic as he, in silence, desperately tried to hold on to his memories, his strength of mind and spirit, his fearlessness and every other inward virtue which separated men from boys. But despite his struggle he could not keep these things inside of himself; he could only spectate as they flowed out of his grasp. Then Faraday appeared in front of him, floating and translucent like some guiding spirit, and by focusing on this otherworldly figure Daniel found he could stall the evacuation of his identity. His brother’s ghost did not speak but it did move, and Daniel followed.

  It brought Daniel to an outhouse in the middle of a field that looked from the outside abandoned, for all the windows were shuttered and the door was latched. But as Daniel reached the door he heard a ruckus inside. Laughter and loud talk escaped here and there through thin openings in the wood. The door itself came open as soon as he approached it and he saw that a circle had been carved out high above his head where an adult could look through and take a measure of those wanting to get in. The outhouse was actually a disguised bordello, and the bar was filled with men drinking and women in various states of undress. Already diminished in mind and spirit, Daniel looked upon the whores in their corsets and the drunks the women openly serviced not as a man would have, but as a boy would, knowing in a deep part of his soul that he did not belong there yet, but thinking that perhaps a peek here and there would not hurt. Now the guardian at the door stopped Dani
el before he could proceed further into the outhouse.

  “Wait a minute, boy,” he said. “Lionel! This one yours?”

  As he heard his name, Lionel lifted himself reluctantly up from his chair, dismissing the whore in his lap and pouting like some petulant child forced to stop playing in order to attend to some boring piece of business.

  “Yeah, this one is mine. Come on, Daniel.”

  “My name is Daniel.”

  “That’s right. Come on, Daniel. I thought I told you to be here one hour ago?”

  “My pa wouldn’t let me out until I finished my chores.”

  “Nobody likes excuses, boy. Now sit over there. I told you I would make a man out of you.”

  Even diminished as he was, Daniel still held on to some of his true self and he remembered this man. His crooked fingers and poor posture, his already balding head— yes, it was the Good Man. Younger, but him. Then a waitress approached their table, wearing about the same outfit the whores were wearing except for a little white apron hanging from her neck.

  “You want some milk?” the Good Man asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll take some milk.”

  “Bring him some milk, but Lacy, bring the good milk. You’re gonna like the milk here, boy.”

  “I’m not a boy,” Daniel said.

  “By the end of the night you sure as hell won’t be.”

  While Daniel waited for his milk, the whore that had been sitting on Lionel’s lap returned to take her place, sitting with her back to Daniel, leaning into Lionel’s ear and whispering and giggling. Then Lionel said something back to her and she got up and began to dance sensuously right in front of Daniel.

  “Watch this,” Lionel said.