Shifting Stars Gary Stringer (moboreader .txt) 📖

gone, Michael observed the four newcomers quickly consult one another over something. Apparently, an agreement was reached because the first three faded from reality, leaving just the last one behind alone. The glowing figure continued to defy any analysis, remaining incorporeal and insubstantial as it floated towards Michael.

“Greetings, Ossian Miach Kaidool,” came an ethereal voice. To Michael’s astonishment, they pronounced his name perfectly.

Michael always described the sound as ‘barely more than a whisper,’ and yet with ‘a kind of hidden musical quality’ that he couldn’t really explain.

“I can help you,” said the figure, “but I will only do so on one condition: as a demigod, I know you have perception beyond that of mortals and a direct line to the gods. I am about to have an important meeting with someone, and neither you nor the gods must know anything about it. The pain you’re suffering right now is blocking all that out, so leaving you as you are would serve my needs perfectly. But I’m not without compassion, so I’m willing to take your pain away, if you agree to my taking away all your other senses, too.” The figure paused for a moment and appeared to reconsider. “Actually, I can leave you your sight, because nothing you see will matter without the wider context. Don’t worry, it will only be for a short while. Daelen’s latest fight with Kullos will soon be over, and he’ll come back here to help you, but I must be gone before he arrives, so I need your answer now. Do you consent to my terms?”

“Yes,” Michael gasped. “The pain…is too…too much, I…I consent.”

The instant the words left his mouth, all of his higher senses vanished, taking the pain with it. He couldn’t feel anything at all or hear, or taste, or smell. The stranger was true to their word, however, and left him with his sight intact. Michael almost wished he had asked them to take that away, too, given the terrible carnage and devastation all around. But since he felt at least partially responsible for it, Michael accepted that he had no right to be shielded from it, so he looked on.

The figure seemed to crouch down beside the still form of Catriona Redfletching and gently wake her with a touch. Cat stirred and opened her eyes. She looked puzzled for a moment as if she couldn’t quite work out what she was doing there. Then the memory rushed back, and the half-Faery girl shot to her feet, darting away as if trying to find something or someone. The ethereal figure seemed torn between trying to comfort or help Catriona, and impatiently checking what Michael assumed to be a timepiece on their wrist. As if some pressing need were threatening to drag them away against their wishes. After a short while, Cat sank to the ground once more, in the middle of the devastation that had been her home but moments before and buried her head in her hands. That was the moment the shrouded figure chose to approach her once more.

Michael was unable to hear the words that were said, but he guessed they must have been profound indeed, for they were enough for the distraught Catriona to look up and cease her tears. The girl seemed fascinated by the other’s presence as if they presented a puzzle intriguing enough to put her grief aside for the moment. Cat gazed at the other like she could not believe they were even real but couldn’t fathom why she felt that way.

After a short conversation, the shrouded figure convinced Catriona to stand and watch as the mage opened a pocket dimension and produced a small wooden staff, approximately three feet in height with a large blue crystal on top. Then the figure performed magic on the land, causing the grass to regrow, trees to mend and flowers to bloom. In short order, the village and its buildings were restored, not quite to their original design, but a fair approximation of it, as if they were reconstructing it not from recent memory, but from something more distant. The mage’s talents did not extend to bringing back the people who were lost that day, but by the time they were finished, at least those Quarthonian survivors that remained had somewhere to rebuild their lives. All through this, the crystal at the head of the staff sent a lightshow high into the sky, but frankly, Cat was far more interested in what was happening to the land.

Catriona looked on with wide-eyed astonishment, while all the other mortals seemed baffled by this apparent miracle. Some of them lifted their heads in praise to their gods, though Michael knew they had nothing to do with it. Others fell to their knees to worship Tempestria itself, perhaps in reverence to Blessed Alycia, Mother of Nature. Somehow, Michael thought this was nearer the mark, but none of them seemed to link what was happening with the mysterious figure floating beside Catriona. It was as if they could not perceive them at all. None except Michael and of course the young Catriona.

When the magical demonstration was done, the figure gave the staff to Catriona, who beheld it in wonder. The mage began to move away as if they were going to use the distraction of their gift to make good their escape, but then, as if pulled by unseen forces of compassion, they swooped back over to Catriona and embraced her. When they broke the hug, the mysterious figure took one more glance at their timepiece. It seemed that their time was finally up, for they stepped away from Catriona and began to fade. As they did so, Michael’s senses came flooding back, along with the agonising pain.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” came the whispered, melodic voice in his mind. “I think I might have forgotten to mention this part of our agreement. Sorry.” And then they were gone.

*****

My mother always referred to that glowing figure as her ‘Angel,’ but to