Beth Wonders's Arc

Chapter 24 of 29

Beth could read the charts now, but reading them only sharpened the problem. Three true star sources glowed on the paper. She measured each with her finger against the map's scale. The first sat past a frozen sea. The second hid behind a mountain wall. The third floated in open sky, days beyond any road. None lay within a walk. She had the map to her magic and no way to reach it. She spread the charts across a stall at the drifting bazaar, under its layered canopies and swaying lanterns. Elijah stood beside her, still and pale, arms folded. He had helped her out of the cathedral and hadn't left since. "You can't fly there?" he asked. "My wings are for gliding. Not for crossing a frozen sea." She jabbed the map. "These are real. And they're useless." The void chef uncoiled from a wooden panel behind them, its starry body sliding past engraved planets. It leaned over the charts, star-eyes glinting. "Three good ones," it said. "You picked the far three." "They're the only true ones." Beth's voice cracked. "I can't get to any of them." "Then don't walk." The worm tapped the open-sky source with the tip of its body. "This one drifts. Same as this bazaar. Same as me." It paused. "Bazaar moves every ninth day. It's ridden a source before." Beth stared at it. "You want another taste." "No." The worm said it flat. "I already own your finished world. Can't sell it twice." It curled closer. "This one's a gift. Ride the bazaar to the drifting source. I steer. You collect." She waited for the catch. None came. The void chef only watched her, patient as the dark. Stellan crossed to the stall then, pencil still in hand, flame-head bright above their star-buttoned coat. The astronomer had traded Beth the marks not a day ago and clearly wasn't done with her. "The bazaar drifts north on the ninth day," Stellan said, not looking up from their notes. "It passes within reach of that source. One night. No more." "You knew that when you sold me the marks," Beth said. "You didn't ask." Stellan tore a corner from their catalog and passed it to her. On it, a single arrow and the time. "Be aboard before dark." Beth folded the paper. The plan was thin, but it was real. She looked at Elijah. "You're coming." "I'm coming." That night the bazaar lifted. Beth felt the ground drop away beneath the canopies. Lanterns swung. The frozen sea slid past below, then the mountain wall. On the ninth night the drifting source rose to meet them, a slow-burning star close enough to touch. She reached out and drew its magic into her hands, warm and full, more than she'd held in weeks. The source was hers. But the bazaar kept drifting, carrying her farther from her cathedral with every hour. She had the magic now. She had no way home.