“Esme, come here,” called Fiona.
Merceron laughed. “Don’t be afraid for her. Esme and I have known each other since before you were born, girl.”
“I’m not afraid,” countered Fiona. “I’m not the one who ran away, remember?”
“Hmm, you’re a Rendor, all right,” snorted Merceron. His eyes flicked to Moth. “What are you called?”
“My name’s Moth.” Not knowing how to explain things, Moth reached into his pocket and pulled out the star machine. “Leroux gave me this.”
With a sudden roar the dragon swatted the device from Moth’s hand. A crashing foot ground the thing into the floor.
“Hey!” cried Fiona.
The dragon lifted his foot and peered down at the star machine with a groan of disappointment. Moth scrambled to retrieve it, worried it would be in pieces. Amazingly, not even its mirror was damaged.
“I can’t harm it, boy,” grumbled Merceron, collapsing into his chair. “No one can.”
“What it is?” asked Moth. “Do you know?”
“Of course I do,” said Merceron in an irritated voice. “Everyone in this world knows what is it. Everyone bears its curse.”
Lady Esme hopped down to the arm of his chair, brushing her wing against him. To Moth, she seemed to be comforting him.
“So?” pressed Fiona. “What is it?”
“The Starfinder,” the dragon grumbled. “The indestructible, all-enslaving Starfinder.”
Moth ran his fingertips over the device. “Starfinder…” At least now it had a name. “It brought us to you, Merceron. Just like Leroux said it would.”
“What?” The dragon rose, towering over Moth. “You used it?”
“Yes,” said Moth. “It took us right to you.”
Merceron boomed with laughter. “Ha! Leroux did it! He figured it out!”
“Well, no,” said Moth. “Not really.”
Merceron turned to Fiona. “So Rendor helped him?”
“My grandfather?” scoffed Fiona. “Please. He never helped anyone in his life.”
“Grandfather? Ah…” Merceron’s grin displayed a mouthful of teeth. “You’re one to be careful of, then—Rendor’s offspring.”
“My name’s Fiona,” she shot back. “And I’m nothing like my grandfather.”
“It’s true, Merceron,” said Moth. “Nobody helped us. I used the Starfinder on my own.”
“That’s impossible,” said Merceron. “You’re just a boy!”
His disbelief annoyed Moth. “We’re not lying to you. All Leroux said was that he couldn’t get back here to help Esme. Do you know what he meant?”
All the joy left Merceron’s face. “I do. It means we both failed Esme.”
Moth wrapped his hands around his oversized teacup, watching Merceron puff lightly on his pipe. On the table next to them sat the Starfinder. Fiona sipped suspiciously at her tea, considering the dragon over the rim of her cup. Merceron leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke rings from his nostrils.
They had explained everything to Merceron—about Leroux and their journey through the Reach, and how Fiona’s grandfather was searching for the Starfinder. They left out nothing, and while they spoke Merceron listened attentively, never interrupting, not even when they told him about Leroux’s death. Finally, when their tale was done, the dragon grew contemplative.
“Leroux was a good friend,” he said sadly. Scaly lids closed halfway over his eyes. “Such a shame. Your people live such short lives.”
Fiona set down her teacup. “Did you give Leroux the Starfinder?”
“Can it help make Esme human again?” asked Moth.
Merceron exhaled a plume of tobacco smoke. “Leroux kept his secrets, and secrets aren’t easy for humans. Your grandfather, Fiona—now there’s a man of secrets. I bet he never even told you he came here with Leroux.”
“Huh?” choked Fiona. “He came here?”
“Rendor?” gasped Moth.
“Rendor,” nodded Merceron. “Leroux didn’t come here on his own. They came together. Eldrin Knights, they called themselves.”
“Yes,” said Moth, “but Leroux never said anything about Rendor.”
Merceron chuckled. “You see? Secrets! They came through the Reach to see what was here and to spy on the Skylords. They were lucky to get back to your world.”
“So then it’s true about Esme?” asked Moth. “Leroux said she’s not really a bird.”
“Did they love each other?” asked Fiona.
The dragon extended a bony finger, coaxing Esme onto it. “Oh yes,” he sighed, holding the kestrel up to his face. “She was brave and beautiful. It was easy to fall in love with her.”
“Who was she?” asked Moth. “Who did this to her?”
Merceron’s face clouded with shadows. “I suppose Leroux couldn’t tell you the truth. Your grandfather either, Fiona.”
“What truth?” pushed Moth. He’d waited so long for the story he thought he’d burst if he didn’t hear it right now. “Please, Merceron, tell us.”
Merceron’s voice dipped low. “This is the realm of the Skylords. Only they have the power to transform creatures. They’re the ones who made the Starfinder. And until you, Moth, they were the only ones ever able to use it.”
“I tried it myself,” said Fiona. “But I can’t make it work.”
“As did I,” said Merceron. “Leroux, too. Only you can use its powers, Moth, and that’s a mystery to me.” The dragon’s massive shoulders shrugged. “But it’s back now, and it’s a curse to us.”
“Why?” Moth asked. “What’s it do?”
“You’ve already seen what it can do.” Merceron lifted the Starfinder off the table. “It strips away all privacy, all freedom. It gave the Skylords command of the sky.”
Moth felt lost. “All I did was hold it up to the stars. It showed me the constellations like they were alive.”
“Precisely,” said Merceron. “They are alive. In your world the stars just make pictures, but here every constellation is a real being. Like me.”
“That’s impossible,” scoffed Fiona. “How can that be?”
“Because the Skylords made it that way. They weren’t always as they are now. Once they were like you. Afraid. Ignorant. The sky helped them make sense of the world. Imagine seeing a dragon for the first time! Or a centaur! We were like gods to them. So they drew their star maps and put us in the sky. And when they grew up, they gave their constellations different names. It wasn’t just a dragon anymore. It became Merceron.”
“You must be a real important dragon to get your own constellation,” said Fiona.
“I used to be,” replied Merceron. His smile faded. “Not anymore.”
“So the Skylords made the Starfinder to control the rest of you?” asked Moth. “Their enemies?”
“We were all their enemies once they took to the sky,” said Merceron. He laid his pipe down on the table. “Skylords are a jealous people. They think the sky belongs to them. The whole sky, mind you, in every world, and if they knew your grandfather had made machines for humans to fly…”
“Even the birds,” whispered Moth. “That’s why they don’t fly here, isn’t it? They’re scared of the Skylords.”
Merceron lowered himself from his chair, almost kneeling. “Come here,” he said. As Moth and Fiona left their seats, he wrapped his tail around them gently. “When Leroux and Rendor came across the Reach,” he told them, “dragons were at war with the Skylords. We battled them for our right to the sky. Then they created the Starfinder. The gryphons, the eagles… all were forced to bow to them. That’s what the Skylords did to my dragons.”
“But you got away,” said Fiona. “Did you run?”