Aster Alloway's Arc

Chapter 8 of 26

Aster stepped off the plateau and onto the trail below the floating island. The compass burned in her palm and pointed ahead. Then the wind hit. It roared through the grove and tore at her fronds. The century flower's pollen streamed sideways in a bright cloud, scattering off the trail. The compass spun, lost. Aster shielded her eyes with two arms and staggered. She could not follow a trail the wind kept breaking. She needed shelter to wait the gust out. She scanned the grove through the blowing grit. A squat pink dome sat off the path, round and candy-bright, with colored stones set in its walls like windows. A cottage. She ran for it, bent low against the wind, and pushed through the small arched door. Inside, warm air met her. A tea cart stood by the wall, a copper kettle steaming on top. Behind it waited a small woman with silver braids and three eyes. Aster knew her at once. Elara Ponds sold tea near her own shop on Crestline Street. The middle eye fixed on Aster before the other two moved. "You're the florist," Elara said. "Four arms. Glowing apron. I sold your neighbor tea for years." She poured a cup without asking. "Sit. The wind won't quit soon." Aster sank onto a stool. "You're a long way from home." "So are you." Elara set the cup down. "You're chasing the bloom." She said it flat, not a question. "A newt came through an hour ago, riding the pollen. Its tail carries the trail. It waits out the wind here too." Aster looked where Elara nodded. A pale newt sat on the cart's edge, its tail beaded with dew that glowed faint gold. Pollen clung to the shimmer. The newt held a tiny cup in its claws and watched her. "When the wind drops, follow it," Elara said. "Not your compass. The compass reads the air. The air is a mess right now." She refilled her own cup. "I noticed the trail bends left past the dome. Your compass had you going straight." Aster drank. The tea was hot and steadied her hands. Outside, the roar softened, then thinned to a hush. The pollen cloud settled. The newt slid off the cart and crept to the door, tail glowing. Aster stood. "Thank you. I mean it." "Bring back what you find," Elara said. "People are waiting on you. More than you know." Aster stepped out. The air hung still now. The newt trotted ahead, its dewdrop tail marking the pollen path in tiny gold points. Aster checked her watch and followed. The trail bent left, exactly as Elara had said. Her compass pointed the wrong way. She trusted the newt instead and pressed forward, the bloom closer now than it had ever been.