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Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 20: Fire

CW: Animal death, infant death, body horror

Ira’s eyes went to the thin, silent figure in the shadows, but it did not look back. He swept his hair out of his face with an impatient hand. “I’d hoped that approaching the storytellers’ guild would be a peaceful way to get her witness for Gailuth’s case, but not only did you try to silence her, all you’ve done is let her know she’s a wanted …” Someone rapped on the open door behind him. He whirled around and found himself face to face with a startled Andelian. “I didn’t expect you to be here too, young Luuthe,” she said, and turned to his elders. “Rei Netheidra and Orthasa, urgent news. The central warehouse is on fire.”

next: Kynen's Journal, part 2

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 21: Klyne - Kynen's Journal, Part 2

Kynen’s Journal, Mid-summer under the Leopard Constellation. I had the initial idea of remaining in that glade until Klyne recovered and I had collected enough provisions to last us the journey to somewhere civilized, if she still refused to return to Kitheea. Perhaps we could settle in the town where that kind lady had offered me sanctuary. I wish I had asked her name.

next: Ira gets high on a chase, and a memory of a sunny day

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 22: Riverside Willows

With a ferocity that took his breath away, Hinathu seized him behind the knees and swung him into the air, away from the fire. A hand in a sleeve cupped his face, blocking out the smoke. Ira let his head drop back, and for a moment they might have never stopped and taken flight instead among the million fluttering embers in the sky.

next: the heritage of the bird of Luuthe

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 23: Ashes, Part 1

The whisper of moving parts filled the room, creaks and rustles dangling from the ceiling, running over the floor, glimmering in the sun. A thin aging man hunched over the table, assembling a miniature dragonfly with pincers. Despite his fine clothes, everything about him looked threadbare, from his once-dark hair to downcast eyes, as if the sun were always in his face. In front of him, Ira put down a saucer of blooming moss and paused. “Bai.” Subliminal mechanical noises answered him. “Orthasa.”

next: the strings that Luuthe pulls behind the stage

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 24: Ashes, Part 2

“Absolutely absurd.” The ancillary set her cup down on the table with a crack. “We have an armed conflict, a burnt warehouse, and a wanted criminal on our hands, and you want to go hunting for ghosts. Farcical!”

next: house tensions coming to a head

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 25: Slaughter

CW: violence

Even Ira’s quiet nest could not keep out the noise of the next morning. Deep in the haze of Lower Eda, a clock tolled 0900 Khastlopian time. The sails of Luuthe snapped overhead. Footsteps darted back and forth across the deck, punctuating the sound of voices. Springing down from the sails, Byri switched her tail behind her, her weight rippling as she prowled along the promenade. Away at the other end of the deck, Ira’s door cracked open, and he slipped out, barefoot.

next: cheese is a valid peace offering (and they kind of go on a date?)

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 26: Chrysanthemum

A knock roused Ira from his desk, covered with documents, all scripted in his neat, tiny handwriting, and a stack of dusty novels, bookmarked with scraps of paper. Shaking his hair out of his face, he snatched an armful of laundry off the window seat and opened the door. “If you don’t mind, I forgot to let you wash these when you —” Hinathu stood on the threshold with a brown paper package. His arms full of laundry gathered to his chest and spilling over his hands, Ira stared at him with his mouth open. “Oh,” he said at last. “Hello.”

next: a question of formal attire

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 27: Taking Council, Part 1

On the day of the council, the sky was a mass of grey and bronze, the clouds swirling and reforming against a hazy sky. The wind gusted over the deck and rattled the doors. Rain spattered in fits against the windows. Wrapped up in the quiet space inside his bedroom, Ira buried himself in the sheet around him, breathing in the crinkly softness against his skin. It hugged him like a cocoon, warm and close around his shoulders and behind his knees.

next: the great council convenes

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 28: Taking Council, Part 2

Skylights ran along its width, long and narrow as ribs. The walls arched over and around, inset with plants, ornaments dim in their crannies, and filaments of glass that spread like vinery. An attendant opened the door for them, taking Ira’s mantle from him, and moved to undo Hinathu’s coat, but he shook his head and put his hood down.

next: victory without, disaster within

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 29: Coup

CW: Child sexual abuse

Westward, the sun broke through the rain at last, in long, uncertain rays, reflecting an orange glow through the east-facing windows of the Luuthe fynnu. A soft splash of water broke the silence. Huddled in the bath with his arms around himself, Ira watched his hair floating on the steaming surface. The water dyed the tawny locks dark brown, almost black.

next: Kynen's Journal, part 3 -- a farmhouse

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 30: Klyne -- Kynen's Journal, Part 3

Falena laughed. “I couldn’t go away if I wanted to! A guardian’s everywhere the world is.” She cocked her head, looking at her trailing form. “I could take this part of me away, if you wanted. But I thought you were living off of it.” Braud cut in. “And I have to say, I’m beginning to strike up a good friendship with Kynen.” He nodded and grinned at me. “Back me up here!” I backed up only literally.

next: after the warehouse fire, a wolf's dirge

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 31: Mourning

The roar of fire filled the air, choking out the sky, blasting down the alleys like a furnace. Smoke. Mud. Footsteps rang out in pursuit. Coughing, Sharn rushed through the slippery streets, past the collapsing rubble all around them, stumbling after the shadow of the storyteller through his streaming eyes.

next: Sharn tells a story to a storyteller

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 32: Sharn's Story

Lick your lips and wet your throats, brethren and not-brethren, and run on down through the trails of time to hear our tale. We began when we put our paws on the first stones with sunlight on them. The old pack ran in the fields and the hills north of Yuhio. Long, long ago, they followed the mountains in from the east when the lands dried up — a thousand years ago when the sky first sundered.

next: someone we haven't seen for a long time surfaces again

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 33: Leviathan

Lights flashed back and forth, casting jerky shadows behind the rocks. Huddled on the ground, Sharn reached out a paw and pulled Astal’s sleeve over her mechanical hand before it caught the light. High in the treetops, the wind moved through the leaves with a sound like distant voices, sending them tinkling and hissing long after the gust had passed. He put his chin on the ground and held his breath.

next: Sharn and Astal encounter a rare occasion to work together

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 34: Morass

The mud turned to liquid as the swamp boiled. Deep down beneath the surface, the presence of something big and bright shifted in the bowels of the bog. Sharn splashed and coughed, choking on a mouthful of shirt. His legs paddled. He was sinking. Heaving backwards, he scrambled for a foothold, but the reeds pricked him in the belly.

next: the final chapter in Klyne's story

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 35: Klyne -- Enrylli

And that is all. Kynen did not have a chance to write any more while they travelled, and afterwards … well. Hear for yourself, listeners. All the while, Klyne fought through a haze of confusion and despondency. Every whisper and rustle struck her like the ticking of a clock, and it irritated her beyond reason. “Sing, Falena,” she begged, for the guardian’s voice drowned the sounds. When they rested, she took out Kynen’s notebook and flipped through it, immersing herself in each line of his curvy shorthand. She must have read it five or six times from beginning to end, but he didn’t mind.

next: Sharn find that his heart is not as small as he thought it was

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 36: Rannaito, Part 1

On either side of the road, vegetation sprang up, defiantly alive in the dark. Nearby in the woods, hard feet whispered amid the carpet of needles. Sharn lifted his head. A second shurri sprang over a fence and eyed him across the road. Its massive horned head stood silhouetted in the dusk for just a moment, before it vanished into the shadows.

next: an interrogation does not go as planned

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 37: Rannaito, Part 2

The truck shuddered. Putting his head against his hand, Ira shifted in his seat, fingering the pistol in the breast of his coat. It made his brain itch, as if he were keeping a snake in his pocket. Byri’s tail switched in the corner of his vision as she propped her elbows on the driver’s armrest. Behind them, Naau and the Rannaitan messenger sat opposite each other, their eyes glowing in the shadows.

next: four years ago.

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 38: The Heir of Luuthe

CW: dub/noncon

Wrapped up in the quietness of his bedroom, Ira heard Hinathu’s knock on the study door outside, listening to Hinathu’s pause, the door opening, and the rasp of the sliding screen into his room. “Ira?” his voice asked. And then, closer and softer, “Oh … Ira.” Ira had dragged all the blankets off of his bed, sheets and all, and lay curled up in a mound on the rug. Venturing a hand into the open, he sat up, pushing a stack of books aside, and looked at Hinathu with a distinct feeling of nothing. 

next: the heir arrives in his hometown, the capital of Luuthe

Fishing for the Moon, Chapter 39: Grandeur, Part 1

With a cough, the truck roared into life and settled, shuddering the ground, into a steady idle. On the eastern horizon, a faint, misty rim of light was just beginning to rise over Rannaito, like a candle behind a dirty glass. Sharn shook himself and trotted up to the edge of the field, his ears pricked. The Khastlopian rifle glinted. Byri’s voice split the still air. “All right, driver’s up. Let’s go. It’ll be just under five hours to Chlhuan, according to him, so sit tight. And you, little storyteller, I’ll have my eye on you.”

next: Sharn makes a discovery