1. All A Witch Needs

Her mother said there were three things every witch needs: very deep pockets, a sturdy pair of boots, and a quicksilver mind. But she was wrong. All you needed was a hunger, and Asteria had a starvation not entirely her own. Her eyes always scanned just over the horizon. Her feet kept straying from the path. Her mouth kept whispering words she'd never heard. And the world would whisper back.

What deep pockets could not hold, Asteria devoured with curious eyes and stored within a cavernous mind. When boots ran thin she continued on bare feet, running after the horizon, chasing falling stars to oblivion. She was filled with springtime, bubbling and inconstant, the shifting shadows of a field long overgrown. One could easily be lost in her, lulled by the bell-like laugh that dripped so easily off her tongue. She armed herself with that laugh, cut down any who crossed her with a lopsided smile. Hers was a ferocious kindness.

But under it all, she was starving. She ate up miles of road under wandering feet, devoured words like pressed butterflies between musty pages and set them free to flutter about her mind. She drank up a thousand stories told by fae, though none could quench her thirst. She filled her pockets with wonders and her mind with stories. She filled the night air with laughter and the quiet dawn with tears, but she herself is still empty, still searching.

This is her collection.

3. A Demon of Ink

Asteria was dreaming again. It was all so familiar. The world was on fire. Thatch rained from the roof above her like hot, angry tears. Smoke choked out the crackling firelight. She was clutching something limp and too heavy for her to lift. But she knew she had to move it. She had tried before, a thousand times through a thousand nights. The beams above her shrieked under the strain of the ravenous flames, sending sparks and rubble crashing against her back. She doubled over the form in her lap protectively. It was growing cold and stiff, and so horrifyingly still.

"Please," she sobbed, trembling hands shaking the thing in her lap. No use pleading, some part of her thought. You can never take back what you've done. She sobbed and pressed her forehead to the thing in her lap. It was sticky and wet. It's blood, that mocking part of her whispered. Their blood. And it's all over you. She opened her eyes to a cold, blank face. Her mother's face, mouth slack, eyes dull, dripping in blood.

"Please, you have to get up," Asteria screamed over the roar of the fire. There's no one to hear you now. Just you and the fire you called. Her mother stared up at her. The thing in her arms was empty, and so heavy. She sobbed, doubled over in a fit of coughing. She couldn't think over the crackling of the flames. They licked at her, wrapped themselves around her mind and devoured all thoughts. All she could feel was their hunger pouring into her, burning her clean. She dropped the thing that had been her mother and clutched at her throbbing head. Words she'd never known fought to tear her open and take to the air. She was too little stretched to everything.

She gasped, fighting for breath, and gouged at her own skin with desperate fingers. Something crawled within her, clawed its way up her throat. The tears that streamed down her cheeks burned cold. She tried to scream but it wasn't words that came pouring forth. Thick black ink oozed from her lips and fear turned to panic. She doubled over, sides heaving, hands trembling. The world around her burned and crackled, her spine seared with pain. She felt the whole world inside her, full to bursting, yet every bone ached with hunger.

Black liquid pooled on the ground, wrapped round her hands. It seemed to be crawling up her skin. She tried to shut her eyes, but the afterimages burned there mocked worse than the sight before her. The ink trickling from her mouth slowed; she could breathe again. She sobbed as it wound its way through her fingers, pooling into a long coil, slick in the dancing light of flames around her. Everything tasted like ash and blood. The smoke curled about her tighter with each breath. She was too tired to move. And still the ink pooled. It shifted, warped, and in a burst of black tendrils that spattered her face with droplets, sprouted into an oily pair of wings.

A raven cocked its head, staring up at her from between her trembling hands. "You called?" It hissed, golden eyes narrowing. She gasped down air thick with smoke and fought for words. The world was quaking around her. She could barely prop herself up on her shaking hands.

"I'm cold," she whimpered, surprised by the hoarse rasp of her own voice. That wasn't what she'd wanted to say. She glanced at the still form silhouetted against the dancing flames. Twisted fingers gouged the air like barren trees. Blank eyes shone in the mocking firelight. What was there left to say" "I'm alone," she sobbed before she was overcome with coughing. The smoke burned at her eyes, she gasped but sucked in nothing of use. She was so cold in this room full of too much heat. She collapsed to the ground in a puff of ash, face pressed to tile. The last thing she remembered was a beating of wings, the cool touch of ink to her cheek, and a voice.

"You'll never be alone again."

5. A Ring of Iron

The gentle light of day stirred her awake, and Asteria stretched, stiff from a night spent curled on the stone hearth. Erebus had left her and wandered through the house.

"Have you found the demonology, Erebus" I know my mother kept one somewhere," she called out through the empty rooms. In the drawing room, Erebus hopped onto the wooden table and flicked aside a pile of papers and feathers with his tail before dropping the scroll in his mouth. It unraveled across the table.

"You're still searching for names?" he asked as Asteria settled into the armchair by the table, tucking her bare legs up to her chest.

"Just because something hasn't been found doesn't mean it's lost. Now hush I'm trying to concentrate." Asteria devoured the scrolls in front of her, eyes scanning rapidly over the musty pages, trying to find a name that seemed familiar. She fiddled absentmindedly with a thin band of iron wrapped tightly about her little finger as she often did when deep in thought. Erebus stretched and peered over the mountainous pile of scrolls spread across the desk.

"Why do you wear that anyways" You stink of iron," he sneered, nose scrunched. She glanced up from the scroll she had been reading and stared down at her hand for a second, brows furrowed.

"A man made it for me a lifetime ago. He said it would protect me from fae." She laughed. "Look at me now though. I guess it doesn't work." Erebus bounded across the desk, sending scrolls flying, and leaned over her hand for a closer look at the runes inscribed on the small ring.

"Just as I thought. The wards are facing the wrong way. That's made for keeping something in, not out." She held her hand out at arm's length and twiddled her fingers with a frown. She pressed her thumb to the iron band, felt the cold sting she had long since grown used to. When she drew her fingers away it left them tingling. She had always felt comforted by the sensation, like the feeling after a hand has left a shoulder, like the lacking of something.

"He wouldn't," she mumbled. But she was already lost in memories. The singing of metal on metal, the dance of sparks, the cavernous maw of the furnace. And in the midst of it all, strong and controlled like a king in court, Col. She had sat on the workbench, bare feet swinging as she watched him toil over the hissing red metal and pull horseshoes from shapeless nothing with his own kind of magic. When he noticed her there he would wipe his brow, leaving dark streaks on his tanned brown face, and he'd smile.

"What have you come for today, my little magpie?" He would ask with a laugh loud and warm as a bellows, wiping hands on a leather apron before picking her up and swinging her around to a chorus of giggles. Her answer was always different. A star in the sky or the laugh of a fish, but his answer was always the same.

"I seem to be all sold out. But I can give you a kiss." Accompanied by a quick peck to her forehead, itchy from his stubble. "And a dance. All they cost is a smile." At which he would hold her small hands in his massive ones, tiny feet resting atop his own, and he would waltz her around the forge until she spun away giggling.

The forge had been her refuge. When children from town threw stones, or her mother's ceaseless lessons sent her scattering with tears in her eyes, she always found her way to the dark of the forge. She wrapped herself in the pulsing heat, lulled by the rhythmic clanging and Col's low humming, and dozed off to the smell of metal and leather and coals. Till one day she had wandered in, golden curls bloody from some child's thrown stone. Col had barely glanced up from his work over a bucket of cooling nails for a local farmer who waited by the door as he asked his customary question.

"What have you come for today, little magpie?" Asteria had sniffled, wiping tear tracks from her dirty face, and leaned closer to the gaping furnace.

"I've come for a kiss of fire." The bucket clanged to the floor, forgotten as he reached out to pull her back from the flames. But she had leaned in, whispered a word she'd never learned, and plucked a dancing spark from the air. She held it on a fingertip, turned to face them, and smiled.

When the farmer ran screaming, she stood dumbfounded. When he returned with neighbors and pitchforks, she hid behind Col's leg, clutching at his leather apron as her mother dispersed the crowd. When her mother fell silent and cold, with that look of shame and fury, she ran into the forest.

Col had been the one to find her, leaves and brambles in her hair and arms full of scratches. He had gathered her up in strong arms, humming low and warm as he carried her home. He had set her down on his workbench and crouched down till he met her eye to eye.

"All your mother had when she came here was a satchel full of books, a pocket full of string, and you: a babe wrapped in the very cloak from her back. Instead of taking you in, the village sent you here, to the edge of the forest, to be wreathed in iron like anything else they fear smells of fae." He rubbed a tear from her face gently with one massive hand. "Even they could tell you were something different, little magpie. And that frightens them. But don't let their fear turn you cold, little one. Your mother is a grand witch, fierce and strong. The road calls to her, but she stays for you. Sometimes you remind her of things she has lost, and she seems cold and harsh. But she just wants more for you than this little town. She will always protect you from thrown stones and whispered words. As for me," he leaned over and kissed her on her forehead, smoothing back her messy curls. "You are the greatest gift this curious world has ever given me. I don't have much, but I can give you this." He slipped a small band of iron from one of the pockets on his apron and gently wiggled it onto her thumb. The cold iron bit into her skin and sent a tingling pain up her arm. She winced but he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "You have your mother's wandering heart, little magpie. One day you will take to the air and soar so far above us. But till then, this will keep the powers of fae at bay. It will protect you, for now."

Asteria wiggled at the ring, on a different finger now, in a different life it seemed. "He said it would protect me, that it would keep the powers of fae at bay," she mumbled to Erebus. He nudged her back to the present as he pushed his head gently into her hand. She smiled softly and scratched his chin.

"Ah you see Aster, the wording makes all the difference. I'm sure it has protected you, maybe just not how you'd expect."

7. An Answer From a Fae

The first time Asteria met a fae, it came for her tears. The second time, it came for blood. By the third time she had learned, and it left only with tea and honey. Her mother had told her they were vicious things, unruly, uncontrolled, and above all not to be trusted. But when she had woken blanketed only in moonlight to a gentle brush against her face, all warnings were forgotten. The thing in front of her had been small, barely a hand in length. It was almost human, almost except for its jeweled carapace. Its pointed joints clicked softly as it fluttered closer on translucent humming wings. It watched her from huge black eyes, faceted like a gem under a tuft of what may have been hair had it not danced like fire. When it chirped from a mouth of needle teeth she somehow understood.

"Nothing so sweet as a witch's tears. I've had nothing to eat for all these years." It reached one clawed hand closer, a long tongue flicking across its fangs. "If to me this gift you give, I'll share a secret and let you live." Asteria held up a hand, to swat away the tiny pixie or to wipe away the tears, she did not know. But she paused. She could feel the power of the little creature like she felt the kiss of moonlight on her skin, and she froze with fear. Not because of its hungry eyes, or toothy grin, or even her mother's warning, but because when she felt the power crackling there on its wings it had felt like coming home. She held out her hand, palm flat.

"It is not much but it is all I have, fae." The pixie flitted closer, one clawed foot resting gently on her outstretched palm. She brought her hand close to her face and she could hear its clicking and humming. It reached up on the tips of its pointed toes and lapped gently at the tear tracks along her cheeks. Its tongue was rough as a cat's, but Asteria held perfectly still. When it touched her, she felt a small prick of electricity dance across her skin. Then, just as quickly, the electricity faded and the pixie leaned back with a satisfied sigh like the rustling of leaves.

"Now that I have drunk my fill, a secret I must spill. One answer you may seek, and naught but truth will I speak." A thousand questions bubbled up within her, tripping over her tongue in their rush to be born to speech. She blurted out,

"Do you always have to rhyme?" The fae laughed like the tinkling of broken glass and flashed a too-toothy smile.

"Of course not. But people have certain expectations of fae, you see," it whispered before fluttering away from her hand and off into the still of night. She had been left there dumfounded, hand still frozen by her face.

9. A Thimble For Tea

By the third time, Asteria was ready. She wore years on her shoulders like a cloak. They had chiseled the baby fat from her cheeks and set mischievous stars to sparkle in her eyes. The scars had healed and she was no longer bowed beneath them. This time there would be no tears. A wide smile, her first line of defense, was spread across her round face. It was a hungry smile, a baring of teeth. She had laid out a thimble filled with tea and a dollop of honey inside a ring of salt and had called out a name.

The little pixie had popped into the air, buzzing angrily before it spotted the thimble and made a beeline for the ring of salt. Once inside, it sipped hungrily, licking its lips with a long tongue. It hardly seemed to notice her there, intent as it was on the tea in its claws. It dropped the thimble with a satiated sigh, like a breeze through rippling reeds, and took off to leave. But, when it buzzed closer to the salt ward, it bounced backwards, skidding across the ground with a sizzling zap. The pixie sat up, looked around itself and with a dawning realization, hummed with anger.

"How dare you, you cursed witch. Release me now, you little b—-" Asteria cut the pixie off with a smile. The raven on her shoulder rustled his wings and narrowed golden eyes in satisfaction.

"Not so fast. I've been learning while you were away, Flicker. And I've been thinking." She leaned closer, hunching almost predatorily over the little fae. Her hungry smile spread wider, like she was ready to devour the pixie. "I have a deal for you this time. No blood, no tears. I will give you something even more precious." Flicker's faceted eyes grew wide with curiosity.

"I will give you something as sweet as the sky, as strong as an oak, and as fragile as a spider web. It has been the death of thousands and the dream of millions. A king's greatest fear and a songbird's deepest wish." The fae pressed its hands to the salt barrier, the sizzling of burning carapace forgotten as it stared up at her longingly. It licked its lips. "Answer one question, Flicker, and I will give you freedom."

"For such a prize, I'll tell no lies," Flicker hissed with a bow. Asteria was momentarily stunned by its sudden change of demeanor. She'd read about fae, countless books, but she hadn't expected it to work. Yet, it seemed to be true. Fae fed not on objects, but on meaning. They devoured the essence of a thing: the pain in tears, the life in blood. They ate up not the ink on a page, but the soul of the words. Setting a fae free was not the same as a gift of freedom. Freedom was always a precious fruit just out of reach. For such a gift, a fae would do anything. She recovered her composure and bent down to eye level with the buzzing creature.

"Now, tell me more about this crown of dreams." Flicker sat down on the dirt and licked honey from its long, jointed fingers.

"I see my words with you did stay, though it's been many a night and many a day. Your future you wish to outrun. With this crown, perhaps it can be done. There is a dragon crouched upon his gold, who holds a treasure fabled and old. If this beast you can best, you will find the object of your quest. Find the mountain topped with snow, even when the summer sun does glow. He guards his horde within a cave, and has sent many brave souls to their grave. But, one warning I must impart. To defeat your fate, you must break your heart. If you feel you must win at any cost, something within you will be lost. There always comes a time of choice. Your surest weapon is your voice." The fae's shimmering wings buzzed into action and it fluttered there at the edge of the salt ward.

"For such a handsome reward, I have given you all the knowledge I can afford. And now that my words have gone dry, you must set me free to fly." Asteria took an iron nail from her pocket and scratched a hole in the circle of salt. There was a hiss of magic breaking, and then the ward was gone. Within an instant, so was the fae and she was left there with the pixie's words still ringing in her ears. For the first time in years, hope beat in her heart.

11. A Gryphon's Feather

"I hope you know where you're going," Erebus grumbled from the tall grasses. The point of his tail was barely visible above their waving fronds. Asteria shrugged and hiked her satchel higher on her shoulder as she waded through the field.

"I don't, but the wind does." She spun around, her tunic fanning out around bare legs, and drank in the sunshine. She hummed as she danced through the grass, clanking slightly as her armor slid against itself with her movement. The cottage was behind her and the world lay ahead. She had nothing but a handful of rings, a satchel full of trinkets, and a mouth full of song. But today that was all she needed. The wind indeed seemed to urge them forwards, pulling at the hem of her tunic and setting her loose hair to flicker across her face. Even Erebus felt its pull as he bounded through the long grass. "We'll just find the mountain, find the crown, and then find your name. And you'll be free again." She waltzed between banks of wildflowers in a daze.

"You make it sound so easy. You seem to forget any mention of a dragon." Asteria giggled and scooped him up in her arms.

"I know, Erebus. I've never seen a dragon before."

"You sound dangerously excited at that prospect," he grumbled as he settled into her arms. Her breastplate was warm from the sun and he nestled against it. He tried to hide the hint of a growing smile. It wouldn't be good to get any ideas into her head. She was already flying high enough as it was. Any more excitement and she just might float away. "But how do you expect to find the right mountain?" In fact, the horizon was full of them. They crouched there like the hazy spines of some beast, a bruised purple against the bright blue of the sky. At their feet lay a rolling sea of patchwork fields and pools of forest. Asteria shrugged again and skipped along the ridge of a hill.

"I told you. The wind will take us there. Can't you feel it' It's just begging us to come explore." Asteria danced across the ridge, oblivious to everything else around her. All she could hear was the wind whispering in her ears. All she could feel was the warm caress of a gentle spring sun.

"And what do you plan on doing once you find it?" Erebus mumbled before sitting up in her arms. There was something moving down the hill. The thick underbrush seethed with movement. He thought he saw feathers poking out of the clinging branches. "What is that?" Asteria's gaze was torn from the sky. She leaned over the edge of the hill to get a closer look, perhaps a bit too far.

"I have the armor, don't I" I promise I'll be carefu?" Her word was lost in a shriek as a gust of wind sent them toppling. They both went tumbling down the hill in a mess of flailing arms and legs. They clanged as they rolled into the underbrush, Erebus flying from Asteria's arms in the form of a raven. She had no such luck, and landed straight into a bramble bush.

Another shriek accompanied hers. This one ripped through the calm spring morning and sent birds fluttering from the trees in fear. The bush underneath her shook and seethed. Talons scraped at her armor and wings beat at her face. Erebus hovered over the bushes, pulling desperately at thorny branches with his claws.

"Aster, are you all right?" squawked the raven as he tried to pull brambles away from Asteria. For her part, she tried to wriggle free but the thorns only wound tighter, biting into her exposed hands and face. The creature writhing in the bushes beneath her beat and clawed at her as she tried to push herself away.

"I think so, oof." She was slapped in the face by an errant wing and grabbed a handful of feathers to try and calm the creature. "Would you just stop that for one moment, please?" The wings stilled. The claws paused with a sickening grinding of nail on metal and huge black eyes blinked at her from the bushes. "Whatever you are, I'm sorry to drop in on you like this. But really, all that shrieking won't help either of us." The wings folded sheepishly.

"I'll kill you I swear. I won't go down without a fight." The voice was sharp and airy, almost a hiss. Asteria folded her arms and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"I'm not here to kill you, unless you don't stop with the fidgeting. You can't even fight a bush so somehow I don't feel very intimidated. Some great and terrible beast you are." Wings rustled and a beak clicked in irritation.

"It doesn't seem you're doing much better than I am. And you're nothing but a girl and an overgrown pigeon," the creature grumbled. "If we're stuck like this the hunters really will come. And I promise you they're a bit more intimidating than me." Erebus paused while trying to pull away the brambles and cocked his head at the beast in the bushes.

"Don't worry, Aster. I'll have you free before then and we can leave this ill-mannered beast far behind us." The beast snapped at him with a huge beak, eyes wide in fear.

"Oh please don't. If you leave me I'll die." Asteria glanced down at the creature, one eyebrow raised. An impish smile spread across her face.

"But you said you'd fight them off. I'm sure a powerful beast like you won't need the help of a simple girl and her pigeon." Under her, the creature squirmed with a high-pitched whine. Asteria glanced up at Erebus, barely able to suppress a chuckle. "Well, my pigeon is feeling very magnanimous today."

"If you call me pigeon one more time I might just leave you here for those hunters," hissed the raven. Asteria paid him no heed.

"I guess we could take time out of our very busy adventuring schedule to help a creature in need." The beast relaxed, wings flopping to the side in obvious relief.

"When I'm free I'll give you anything within my power. I won't forget this. Now please, use your sword and get us out of here." Asteria thought for a minute.

"There's only one problem with that. I, uh, don't happen to have a sword." Wings beat at her face and the beast flailed again, tangling them even tighter in brambles.

"What do you mean you don't have a sword" What kind of adventurer doesn't have a sword" I'm going to die here, aren't I" I'm going to die surrounded by idiots." Asteria grabbed at branches to keep the creature from knocking her over.

"You're really in no position to be picky," she grumbled between mouthfuls of feathers. "I'll think of something if you would just sit still for one moment." The wings froze and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

All she had to do was unbind the branches around them. She was born for undoing; this should be simple. She took another breath. All magic needs power and purpose. She couldn't call on the sun, not this deep into the shadows of the underbrush. Though the wind beat around her, it was too wild and unfocused. If she called on fire all the dry branches around them would go up in flames. Her hands clenched tighter in frustration and she winced as the thorns bit into her palms. Her eyes shot open. Of course, blood. A dangerous smile spread across her face and in one smooth motion she wrenched her hand along the length of the thorny branch. As blood dripped from her closed fingers she spoke a word that made no sound and had no name. She opened her hand and the bushes around them unfurled like a flower. Thorny vines burst straight into the air and then drooped flat across the ground. The two stuck inside dropped to the ground with a thud. Asteria lay stunned for a second, trying to catch her breath. All of the stored, knotted Power had gone rushing into her and she felt like her heart was trying to race its way out of her mouth. Behind her, she heard wings ruffle and settle.

"You could have just told me you were a witch, you know." The creature hissed. It leaned over her, blinking as it looked her over. From where she lay, she could see a birdlike head with a crown of tawny feathers and a pair of scaled claws. Feathers gently disappeared into furry haunches. The gryphon's beak opened in what may have been a smile. "That was some magic. You even undid the knots in my back." He shook his shanks and kneaded the ground in a feline stretch. Asteria sat up with a groan and shook her head. It was full of the persistent ringing of dissipating Power.

"Well, at least one of us came out of this alright." Erebus landed on her shoulder and began to reprimand her with a shake of his beak.

"Of course you go ahead with the most reckless show of Power you could think of. If you'd waited for five minutes I'm sure I would have had you free." She pressed her head into his feathers to quiet him and he sighed, resigned to quiet pride. "That was quick thinking, Asteria." The gryphon lowered into a deep bow, one wing curled across its chest deferentially.

"I thank you kindly for your service of a creature in need, mighty witch and humble pigeon."

"Watch it there, you overgrown hairball," growled Erebus. But the gryphon ruffled his wing with his beak and plucked a long feather, holding it out to Asteria.

"A small token of gratitude. The hunters would have plucked me of all my feathers, so it is only fair my savior leaves with at least one." She gently grasped the feather, feeling the prickle of electricity as she ran her fingers along its edge. Though it was tawny, spotted with deep blotches of grey, it danced with color as she twisted it in the light. She smiled up at the creature and tucked it into the satchel at her side, safe among her small collection of trinkets. "Now, about our bargain. You freed me. What do you wish in return?" Asteria thought for a moment, glancing across the treetops towards the distant mountain ridges. She rose to her feet, brushing off bloody hands on her dirty tunic, and smiled at the gryphon before her.

"I want only to fly. The wind will show us the way."

13. A Lost Song

Asteria clutched the feather close to her chest as she fell. The song of the wind became a ravenous roar that sought to rip the air from her lungs. She was blinded to the world around her as light streamed from her skin. But her heart beat fiercely like a drum, cutting through the chaos of song and light. She opened her mouth and her own song poured forth. It was soft at first, unsteady and unsure. But as she plummeted faster, it grew in strength. The beat of her heart and the name on her tongue drowned out the roar of the wind, and then it began to sing along.

The tune began to slow and settle, and so did the wind. It wrapped around her like comforting hands and drew open the curtain of light surrounding her. Suddenly she could see the ground looming beneath her. Fear bubbled up within her and her heartbeat broke the tempo of her song. The trailing hands of wind faltered until she bit down her fear, bottling it within her and reining the song back down to speed. Flying and falling were the same until the landing, and she refused to crash. She began to slow. The mountain drew ever closer. The name on her tongue bubbled within her, vibrating in every part of her till she thought it would shake her to pieces. She was full of wind and song and an untameable weightlessness, at least until she smashed into the rocks below.

A cushion of wind below her dissipated, taking most of the impact. But Asteria still rolled with a crash and clang of metal, skidding across sharp rocks in a shower of stone and dust. The wind was knocked from her and she gasped for air as she rose shakily to her feet. All the frenetic energy she had held within burst forth, but had nowhere to go. It devoured itself within her leaving her a trembling husk, empty and exhausted.

Her head was ringing with a faint name she could barely understand now. It had all seemed so clear up in the sky, but as she clutched at the stones beneath her to steady herself, she suddenly seemed so heavy, so grounded. She had been thrown back to earth again, and something deep in her stomach ached with grief as she looked up to the sky. She could just see the winged shadow of the gryphon disappearing among the mountain peaks.

The tune she had carried within was lost now, just a jumble of notes she couldn't untangle. It pounded within her head like a frenzied storm. Asteria could hardly think above the din. Why had they come" Where were they going" What was her name again, for the wind had known and had tried to teach her before the greedy ground stole her away' What was left once you'd been ripped from the sky"

She shook her head, trying to clear it of the leftover wisps of song. Something stirred around her neck. Erebus unwound himself and slithered down one arm. He seemed equally dazed as he clutched shakily to her hand.

"Next time we'll just take the long route, I think," he mumbled. She opened her mouth to respond, but it wasn't words that left her lips. A gust of wind billowed forth, forcing her back against the rocks. She slapped both hands across her mouth in shock. The tangle of fragmented song boiled within her, writhing like a pit of snakes and threatening to overtake her. She had been wind and light and open sky and now, now she was nothing but a desiccated leaf beaten about in a storm. Erebus stared up at her with wide golden eyes. What was it that played across his scaled face" Fear, worry, anticipation' Or was it a greedy hunger" A forked tongue flicked from the slit of his mouth.

"Calmly now, Aster," he hissed as he carefully slithered up her arm to her shoulder. She was too afraid even to breathe. Her whole body shook with fear, and a coil of wind wrapped tight around her, grasping at her loose curls. It even sent small stones skidding across the ground. They bounced off of her armor with a hollow clanging.

"Breathe, Aster. You just have to breathe." He tapped her cheek comfortingly with the tip of his tail. The carved figures across her armor were roiling and dancing in a frenzy as they drank up the wild Power. The gravel around her was ripped from the earth and hurled about by an invisible hand. Her hair beat at her eyes till tears blurred her vision. And under it all, a thousand voices called out a name she couldn't hear and didn't understand. But she had understood. She knew she had. It was just"lost. She was just lost. Something sharp pierced the meat of her palm, pulling her out of the spiral of hungry air and screaming voices. She looked down at Erebus, who had sunk his fangs into her hand.

"It's fear, Asteria. It's nothing but fear. And fear can't hurt you unless you let it. It will only steal your words if you let it, and I know you." He poked her cheek again. She smashed her eyes shut and clutched at her mouth to keep the raging voices inside from pouring forth. Hot tears carved a path down her cheeks and were devoured by the vicious wind that whirled around her. She was just so small, and it was all too much. But Erebus" deep raspy hiss cut through the howling storm.

"You're too stubborn to let it take your words. I know you. You'll take a breath, you'll open your eyes, and you'll keep on fighting, because you always do." The shaking stilled. The world still howled around her, but she would not be buffeted by it. She was not the windblown leaf, she was the oak tree and her roots ran deep. She took a breath.

The wind that sought to rip her to pieces rushed back into her mouth, filling her up until she felt whole once more. The voices within her quieted and she forced the storm down. They still called out fragmented words she couldn't understand but she fought for her own words. She fought for her own voice within the hurricane, and she spoke.

"But we're so high up and there's no way back. And it's too much and I'm too small. And, and?" Her voice was faint and hoarse, full of a furious howling that was not her own. She did seem small perched on the mountain's edge with her knees pressed tight to her chest and her hands clutching her face in fear. Erebus ran a forked tongue over the wound on her palm.

"You are enough to hold a breath." She swallowed and the voices within her quieted as she pushed them farther down within her. Her own voice grew stronger. She rose shakily to her feet and stared at a gaping black wound in the side of the mountain behind them. A hand gently cupped Erebus" head for comfort as the unknown darkness within stared back. Her brow furrowed with determination. There was nothing behind her but empty sky and a deadly drop. But anything could lie ahead.

"I just hope I'm enough to face a dragon," she whispered before stepping out of the sunlight and into the heart of the mountain.

15. Names Long Buried

"So Little Meal who smells of sunshine and whose name is more than Asteria, what truth do you have to sell?" He blinked one pearly white eye and waited. This close, the waves of heat radiating from him bathed her in an almost comforting warmth. But deep within him, she heard the hungry crackle of flame waiting to burn her for a lie. She thought.

"I told you, I came for a name."

"And what name is that' Did you come in search of your own?"

"No, I came for the name of a demon." The dragon flicked his tail, sending a shower of coins skittering across the dark cavern.

"Not quite true and not quite false. You chase many names, and run away from others." Asteria bit her lip. This still felt very much like a riddle to her. The words didn't seem false when they left her mouth. But the twinge at the back of her throat told another tale. There was more, of course there was more. For the first time, she began to understand what he meant by the pain of dredging a truth from the depths. She fought for words she had long since driven to the dark corners of her heart. One hand fiddled with a thin iron band wrapped tight around her little finger and slowly, haltingly the words began to spill forth and echo through the cavern.

"I found a shadow when I lost myself. I burned myself clean and he was there to shelter me in the ruins of my old world. And now it's up to me to set us both free, and finally bury the souls I carry around in the crumbling mausoleum of my heart. I have so many names etched into the broken pieces of me, but it's the names that lie ahead that truly frighten me. What if I don't like what I find" What if I find I'm not what I am?"

"And what is that' A witch, a girl, a protector" What if the darkness runs deeper than you thought' What if there's nothing left beneath the fire but dead ash' You will be what you are, which is not what you were. No amount of fear will stop it." He laughed, pouring out a billow of smoke and flickering cinders into the darkness. Asteria coughed and gasped for air.

"Answer me. I gave you the truth, and you give me nothing but smoke."

"That's not enough. The answers you seek cost more than the pain of removing a bandage. They cost the cauterizing of the wound. Free the souls you carry with you. You'll break under the weight, so bury them. Name them." Asteria paused. The names rolled around her mouth, fighting to be heard. She had kept them too long in silence. But she knew speaking them would leave her mouth bloody. Something about the darkness edged her forwards. She was safe there in the anonymity. She took a breath and let a name free.

"Col. He wasn't my father, but he was all I had. He was my protector. He was huge and gentle and smelled of ash and leather and the cold sting of metal. He was the first. He..." She took a shaky breath and tried to force the words past her lips. "He died reaching out to me as a power I'd never known burned the flesh from his bones." Those were the hardest words. The rest poured forth like flood waters.

"Rona. She was my mother. She was fierce and sharp and cold and so much more than I'll ever be." Asteria could feel hot tears prick at her cheeks. "She was a witch-knight, a tier of knots, and a destroyer of beasts. Her hands were steady and sure of themselves: when she methodically weeded the garden, when she gently braided knots of protection through my hair, even when she clutched my throat and tried to cut the tongue from my mouth. She died choking on blood and smoke." Asteria swallowed. She wanted to stop there. But in the dark, she couldn't keep herself from seeing them.

She had been dancing through the velvety shadows of a forest in full summer glory, singing songs with no name and trailing fireflies in her wake. The wind had danced with her. Her sugary-sweet voice coaxed it forward and wound it between the trees as motes of light bobbed in time. She waltzed with the world, until her mother dragged her from the forest with an iron grip on her wrist. Her face had been cold and rock hard, her grey eyes blank. She never looked down.

At first Asteria thought it was another lesson. Her heart fell as she envisioned hours spent hunched over knots that just unwound in her clumsy hands. Then she thought her mother had seen how many of the blueberries she'd eaten. That must have been it. Her heart dropped again, deeper into the roiling sea of her stomach. She tried to wriggle free of her mother's grasp and hide the evidence. But her mother had clamped down harder on her berry-stained fingers and half-dragged her towards the forge.

That had been the moment the real fear set in. She had expected a wooden spoon across the knuckles or another lecture. But her mother silently pushed the door open and dragged her inside the smithy. The fire had burned down to flickering coals and the rest of the room was blanketed in shadows. Her mother had grabbed a fistful of curls and jarred her neck back across the anvil. Even now, Asteria could remember the sharp bite of the steel against her skin.

"Mama." Her voice had been so weak in the near darkness. Her eyes so wide. Her mind so blank. There was nothing but the cold determination on her mother's face as she stared into the dying embers. "I'm sorry about the blueberries. I'll go find more. I promise." Her mother refused to look at her. Asteria had been too stunned even to struggle as she pulled a long knife from her apron and forced Aster's mouth open with a hand squeezing her jaw.

"I made a promise too. But I can't keep it now, for either of us." She pressed the knife against the inside of Asteria's cheek as her other hand reached out and grabbed her tongue. Asteria had gagged as she tried to speak, to apologize again and again. She had felt the cold metal pressed against her mouth, heard the creak of the door open though she couldn't turn to look, and worst of all she had felt the white-hot hate burning in her mother's eyes.

Fear had bubbled up within her and then came the voice. It called out a name she'd never heard but always knew was hers somewhere deep within her. Though she couldn't speak, she screamed back. The dying embers of the fire burst back to life with a growl like cracking bones. Her own breath was drowned in fire and ripped away by a ravenous wind. And then she had heard Col.

"Rona, let her go." Tears had streaked down her cheeks as she heard his voice, his low, protective growl. Her fingers struggled in vain as she tried to push her mother's arms away. But her mother only gripped the knife tighter, daring herself to turn its cutting edge towards flesh.

"Leave us Col. She's not your burden to bear." Col was right behind her now. Asteria had seen one massive hand wrap around her mother's wrist.

"She's not a burden, Rona. She's a child. Whatever she's done, she can learn to control it. We can protect her." Her mother's laugh had cut sharper than steel. Her hand had pulled Asteria's tongue taut against the knife's edge. She had struggled against Col's grasp.

"That's where you're wrong Col. She's not just a child. She's a voice, a caller in the void. So what if we can protect her from the world; what will protect the world from her?" She had seen his dark eyes wide in fear and stunned horror as the fire raged higher, and then he was gone.

"I'm sorry," she had whimpered through a mouthful of cold steel before the world had exploded around her. She had felt the sharp bite of metal, the warm pouring of blood in her mouth, and then she was drowned in a wave of fire.

But the world was dark now, and they had long since burned to ash. She shivered and clutched at her own skin to drag herself out of the memory. She never dreamed of that part; just the destruction that followed, just the part that had been her fault. She only dreamed of the hungry fire, the greedy smoke, the cool and comforting darkness that had spread its wings and welcomed her home. Asteria's shoulders wracked with sobs. She felt so small in this armor that wasn't even her own. Even here in the dark, in the burning lair of a beast with only her words to shield her from an onslaught of flames, even here she couldn't escape her mother.

"I wanted to hate her. I wanted to hate her more than I wanted to live. I fought for hate like a drowning man fights for breath. But I couldn't do it. All I could do was hate myself." The dragon's tail shifted in the darkness, followed by the disembodied tinkling of treasure. She waited to be called out on a lie. She waited for the death blow. But she just felt something warm press against her side. The dragon wrapped his tail around her, his voice soft.

"There, finally. The truth."