Chapter four

"I just love when the Starborn visit, don't you?" asked Phoebe's neighbor as the two of them worked to clear the space where their visitors would set up camp.

It had been a couple of days since they received word that the Starborn were on their way, and Phoebe's father had kept her and everyone else busy with preparations. That morning, she and her neighbor had spent hours raking out overgrowth and leaves from the clearing, and Phoebe's brow was beaded with sweat from the effort. She paused to straighten her back and stretch.

"Yeah, it's exciting," Phoebe said. She gazed around the clearing and imagined how it would look once it was filled with tents. "I like when we have visitors."

When she was little, Phoebe didn't realize the commune had a name. The only thing she had ever called it was 'home'. It wasn't until Connor came to live there with Phoebe and her parents that she learned what the rest of the world called them: Ardent.

Phoebe hadn't even known that places could have real, proper names until Connor came along. From him, Phoebe learned about things like cities and towns, each with their own names and absolutely teeming with people. She was only six at the time, and so that little bit of knowledge had blown her mind. Connor had told her a lot about the world since then, and though he never made her feel bad about it, Phoebe was still embarrassed by how little she knew about life on the other side of the trees.

Of course, she hadn't been completely ignorant. She knew that there were other people out there; some of whom were good, Star-following people, and the rest of which were shameful dissenters. She also knew that it was because of those wayward heathens that the commune existed in the first place. There, tucked away in the safety of the ancient forest, Phoebe's people could practice their devotion to the Stars without distraction. There they were safe from those who strayed from the Starlight, as well as those who tried to control it. The people of Ardent kept to themselves, and in exchange for minding their own peaceful business, the rest of the world left them alone.

Those who lived in Ardent were distrustful of outsiders. Every now and then, someone showed up in their little haven with their sights set on joining the commune. These people were required to go to great lengths to prove their devotion to the Stars in order to be accepted, and very few of them made the cut. For reasons Phoebe still didn't really understand, Connor had been excused from this test of faith, and though it certainly hadn't been his decision to come in the first place, many in the community considered this unearned privilege to be just one more strike against him.

Beyond the Starlight seekers, anyone else who happened upon the commune in the woods was swiftly turned away. It didn't matter who they were or why they were there — the people of Ardent didn't tolerate strangers in their midst.

But there was one exception to that rule; for as long as Phoebe could remember, the nomadic astromantic druids known as the Starborn had always been welcome in the commune.

Her neighbor dumped an armful of weeds and twigs into the old green wheelbarrow Phoebe had brought from home. "I don't care about having company. I just want to know what messages the Stars have for us." Though her neighbor was being reverent, Phoebe didn't miss the note of envy in her words.

The relationship between the Starborn and the people of Ardent was a strange one. As the closest decedents to the ancient Starborn people, the astromantic druids were the only beings on the planet capable of communicating with the Stars. And so, to Phoebe's people, who lived their lives as the Stars commanded, this skillset was extremely valuable. As the story went, it was the Starborn who first named the faithful little commune 'Ardent' in the first place. Many years ago, the people of Ardent had invited—even begged—the Starborn to stay in the forest and share their gift with them. But the druids refused, choosing to roam the world instead. As a compromise, they promised to visit Ardent whenever from time to time, bringing messages from the Stars when they did.

Though she would never say it out loud, Phoebe was always more interested in the druids themselves than whatever the Stars had to say. The messages were usually a lot of the same thing: reassurances that the Plan was unfolding as it should, pithy platitudes about destiny and resilience. For months after each Starborn visit, the people of Ardent would quote these messages like mantras, especially on bad days or when a neighbor was suffering, repeating each one until Phoebe found the words lost all meaning. Sometimes she wondered if the Stars were just pandering to them the way weary parents did with their needy children; each message nothing more than a gracious pat on the heads of their followers, assuring them that their unwavering devotion had not gone unnoticed.

Phoebe didn't need the Stars to tell her that she was a good and loyal acolyte, mostly because she knew she wasn't one. It wasn't for lack of trying, of course. She listened diligently when her father relayed the Stars' teachings and she participated in all of the rituals. And yet...

Sometimes in the days leading up to the Starborn's arrival, Phoebe would dream about being singled out of the crowd by one of the visiting druids. In the dream, the druid's golden eyes would glow as they received a missive from above. His finger would extend from his tightly clenched fist, and point directly at her as he declared in front of everyone that the Stars knew all about her doubts and misgivings. On those nights, she would wake gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. The image of her father's mortified expression and palpable distain would haunt her for days.

But the dreams were only that, and by the time the druids arrived in Ardent, Phoebe was too excited to be worried about whether she believed enough to belong.

Nightmares aside, Phoebe adored the druids. She wanted to hear about the places they'd been and the people they'd met since their last visit. She liked to stare at their colorful clothes, which were much more interesting than the plain-woven garments everyone in Ardent wore. Phoebe loved these small tastes of life beyond the trees, and she savored each one like the rare morsels that they were.

But there was one thing about these visits that Phoebe looked forward to more than anything else, and her name was Rue.

First daughter of the druids' leader, Rue was the most fascinating person Phoebe had ever known. Funny and kind, brilliant and beautiful, Rue had a way of making everyone who came in contact with her feel like the most special person in the world. She never seemed to mind the way Phoebe followed her around the commune like a shadow, peppering her with incessant questions and talking a mile a minute.

When she was much younger, Phoebe had harbored an enormous crush on Rue. Even though Rue was a few years older than her, Phoebe would spend every moment they had together trying to make her smile. She wasted long hours daydreaming about what it would be like to hold Rue's soft hand in her own and wondering how it would feel to kiss her full lips. Not that she would ever have the guts to make a move; Phoebe instead chose to pine in secret, never telling anyone about her feelings for the lovely Starborn druid.

And then, a few years earlier, Phoebe was cutting through the forest to visit the Starborn encampment during one of their visits to Ardent. It had been a balmy summer's evening and the light was slowly fading beyond the canopy. Phoebe hadn't realized she wasn't alone until she stepped around the fallen carcass of an old toppled pine and stumbled upon Connor and Rue wrapped in one another's arms.

Sure, it had stung to learn that her crush was secretly in love with someone else. But, Phoebe rationalized, if she had to miss out on her chance with Rue, she was glad that she had lost it to Connor. She couldn't even bring herself to be mad about it. When Connor looked at Rue, Phoebe saw a happiness in his eyes that she had never seen before. She wanted that for him more than anything, and so it had been easy enough for her to shift gears into wing-woman mode, running interference for the young couple whenever the Starborn came to Ardent, and using her privileges to send letters for her cousin during the long months in between.

"I'm going to take this last load to the compost pile," she said, hoisting the wheelbarrow handles before her neighbor could offer to do the same. She hadn't seen Connor since the morning she'd discovered him battered and bruised, and she wasn't sure if he knew that their favorite person was only a few days away. If there was ever a time to visit him in secret, it was now: the commune's compost pile was set back in the trees, so she planned to sneak over to his cottage on her way back from the errand. "Will you be okay until I get back?"

Her neighbor smiled serenely and waved her off. "Of course. I'll start flattening the grass."

Phoebe headed for the path with her load of debris. Once the clearing was out of sight, she picked up the pace and sprinted as quickly as she could without tipping the wheelbarrow over. It was an awkward journey, and she had a couple of close calls along the way. But she needed to be quick if she wanted to have time to deliver the news without raising suspicions with a prolonged absence.

She was about halfway to the compost pile, surrounded by brush and deep in thought, when she heard a strange sound from up ahead. The path took a sharp left, where it snaked downward into a depression in the earth. As a result, Phoebe couldn't see whatever was making the sound — she could only tell that it was coming toward her. She stopped and held her breath to listen, struggling to place the noise. It sounded as if something massive was rumbling along the forest floor. Phoebe, who never had a reason to be afraid of the woods in her life, crept forward. She moved cautiously, spurred by an innate curiosity that trumped any sense of self preservation. Just before the bend in the path, she set the wheelbarrow down and tip-toed past it so that she could lean around the bushes to investigate. When she did, Phoebe was startled to find a pair of vibrant green eyes staring back at her.

"Holy shit!" she cried, scampering back and nearly tripping over the wheelbarrow in the process. "Connor, what are you doing out here?"

Her cousin tipped his head and the brow above his good eye arched quizzically. "Your dad sent me to get firewood," he explained, motioning over his shoulder to where a massive wagon sat sagging under the weight of enough firewood to keep the commune warm for an entire winter's month. "I'm not sure why he wants so much of it, but I'm trying to stay on his good side so I didn't ask."

Phoebe always found it a little disconcerting when she saw Connor doing something that would normally take a team of people to accomplish. Had he been anyone else, a task like this would have been cruel and unreasonable. But for Connor, hauling a literal ton of firewood by himself wasn't any harder than pushing the wheelbarrow was for Phoebe. There was only one good thing about being a Wish, and that was the inexplicable, otherworldly gift that each of these living crimes was born with. For Connor, that gift was his inhuman strength.

"I know why," Phoebe said, bouncing gleefully on the balls of her feet. "Our visitors are going to need it."

She grinned as she watched Connor's face light up.

"Really?" He sounded more hopeful than Phoebe had heard him be in a long time. "When?"

"They should be here in a few days!" Phoebe gave her cousin a playful, teasing shove. "On a scale from one to ten, how excited are you right now?"

But instead of turning red with a sheepish blush, Connor's smile faded. That wasn't the reaction that Phoebe expected.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Connor lifted a hand to his eye. Though the swelling had subsided, the bruise was a deep, dark shadow tinged with shades of green and yellow. "Your dad isn't going to let me anywhere near them looking like this. They'll ask too many questions."

Phoebe's heart sank. She hadn't considered that, but she knew he was right. The Starborn had a particular interest in Connor. They checked in on him whenever they visited, which meant the entire commune had to go out of their way to make it seem like he was being properly cared for. But there would be no hiding those bruises. In all likelihood, her father would probably just keep him hidden away and claim he was too ill to see anyone. Phoebe's mind scrambled for a plan. "Don't worry, Connor — I'll think of something. I'm not going to let you miss Rue."

"I don't want her to see me like this," Connor said quietly. All of his previous excitement was gone now, and his strong shoulders sagged with disappointment. It broke Phoebe's heart to see him so downtrodden.

"C'mon, Connor," she pleaded. "Who knows how long it will be until their next visit? You can't just not see her!"

Sighing, Connor repositioned his grip on the wagon's handle. "I should probably go, Pheebs. The last thing we need is for someone to catch us talking — you know how fast word would get back to your dad." He offered her a small, sad smile and gave the wagon a tug. Its wheels groaned until the weight of its load, but Connor hardly seemed to notice. "Tell Rue I miss her and that I'll catch her next time, okay?"

Tossing her head back, Phoebe let out a loud and frustrated groan. She knew there was no point in trying to talk sense into him right now — at times like this he could be almost as stubborn as she was. As Connor and the wagon trundled in one direction, Phoebe picked up the wheelbarrow's handles and shoved it in the other.

"You can tell her yourself," she grunted under her breath, knowing full well that Connor couldn't hear her. Her heart swelled with determination. "I'm gonna make sure of it."

***

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