Nephthys Starweaver's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Nephthys took one last breath and dove. The black water closed over her tail. She swam down past hanging sheets of dark kelp that brushed her arms like wet fingers. The deeper she went, the more the water thickened around her. Small flecks of light drifted in the dark, like stars caught underwater. Below her, on the sea floor, something gleamed gold. She kicked toward it. A shape rose from the silt, tall and dark, with two glowing eyes fixed on the light. She froze. It did not move. It was only stone, a carved marker guarding the thing that had fallen. Between its feet lay a star of gold. Its five points spread wide. Egyptian marks covered every inch of it, pressed deep into the metal. This was the fallen star. This was what Rue wanted read. Nephthys wrapped both hands around it and pulled. The silt let go. The star was warm, warmer than the cold water had any right to allow. She turned and swam up, holding it to her chest. Her lungs burned. The surface glowed far above. She broke through and gasped. She dragged herself onto the black sand. The grains stuck to her scales and glittered. Rue was already waiting, bones bright against the dark, tail flicking fast. "You have it," Rue said. Nephthys laid the gold star on the sand between them. "It's covered in writing. Marks I've never mapped." She traced one carved line with her finger. The metal glowed brighter under her touch, as if it woke. Rue leaned close. Her glowing eyes went still. She did not blink. She did not speak. Nephthys knew that stillness. Rue went silent only when a star refused to be named. "Rue," Nephthys said. "What is it?" Rue's voice came flat and quiet. "It is a message. It is not finished." "Not finished how?" Rue lifted one bony paw toward the sky. "Look up." Nephthys looked. The star in her hands had begun to burn hot. Above them, the black sky cracked with light. One star dipped. Then another. Then ten. They fell in a slow, spread-out drift, each one a small yellow flame sliding down toward the sea. They did not streak and vanish. They came steady, like they were called. Nephthys stood, the gold star heavy in her arms. "I only took one," she whispered. "I only pulled one loose." "You read the first line," Rue said. "The rest is coming down to be read too." More stars broke free. The sky that Nephthys had charted her whole life began to empty, point by point. Each falling light aimed for her black water. She held the gold star tight and understood. She had not ended the fall. She had started it. The message was scattered across the whole sky, and now the sky meant to deliver every piece.