A Sliver of Stardust (24 page)

“Jack!” Wren dropped the shield and ran over to him. Could he really be dead? His body lay crumpled, curved around what was now a burnt-out hole in the floor. The Ashes has been right. Jack had tried to force the gateway. Whatever he'd done, whatever dark rhyme he'd used, it hadn't worked.

Wren knelt by Jack's side, feeling his wrist and then neck for a pulse.
Nothing.
The skin on his face and hands was covered with countless cuts where the stardust had flayed him. She flipped him onto his back, racking her brain for what she had learned in that one CPR class she had taken for babysitting. Compressions, she thought, and then the breath of life. She pushed hard on Jack's
chest. Wasn't there supposed to be some song you could count to? Some way of timing the compressions? Her mind went blank. She couldn't think of the song, any words at all, except the strange rhythm of the Ashes. She placed her hands on his chest, pushing down hard, willing his heart to keep beating. She waited. Listening for breath. She did it again. And again.

Wren didn't know how long she had been working on Jack, what she was waiting for. She might be keeping his heart beating, but if it couldn't start manually, he was beyond hope. It wasn't like someone was going to run and call 911 and then the ambulance would come and shock his heart back. No, she was alone. And the Ashes were wrong. She wasn't going to save him.
Ring around the rosies
. Two presses.
Pocket full of posies.
Breathe into his mouth. Wren felt the shock wearing off. The exhaustion and the unreality of what had just happened came crashing in. Jack. Dead? Hot tears flooded her eyes, and her throat clenched so that she could barely breathe.
Ashes, ashes.
The stupid Ashes. Showing her how Boggen had used her friend. Telling her she could save Jack with a rhyme? She choked back a sob, willing herself to hold it together just a little longer. Sending her here in just enough time to watch him die?

Wren's eyes grew wide.
Of course!
She had been going about this all wrong.
The rhyme.
She shook some of the stardust out of her hair, swirling it in the air above Jack's motionless form. Her addled brain had missed the whole point of the rhyme. She thought back to what she had learned at the Crooked House about healing, how the stardust had bathed the wounded tree and straightened it, righting it—how Mary had healed Jack's cut on that long-ago day with the falcons. She swirled her hands through the air, her shaky voice growing stronger as she said the words to the Ashes' rhyme. She watched the stardust form, flaring brightly with the intensity of her emotion, twisting and curling. Sweat beaded on her forehead, the exhaustion of the past hours threatening to undo her completely, but she set her mind fast, working the stardust until it fell into a white-hot stream of light.

Wren took a deep breath—
the Ashes had better be right—
and funneled all of it, the bright hot living stardust, straight at Jack's chest in one powerful jolt. The cavern around them blazed with heat. She saw Jack's body spasm and then through the blinding light saw the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He was breathing
. Wren sank back onto her heels, the last bit of her energy spent
with the stardust. She felt dizzy. Her vision blurred. She reached out to steady herself on the floor but she was already laying down. Streaks of blue and white shot across Wren's vision, and Jack's voice weakly calling her name sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel.

And there at the end of it was a familiar song, the rhythm of the Ashes singing, the low beautiful harmony of their eerie music tucking her in to a dreamless sleep.

Sleep, baby, sleep.

The Ashes guard the keep.

Another shakes the dreamland tree,

And from it fall sweet dreams for thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep.

T
he first time Wren opened her eyes she saw Liza sitting next to her bed. She was in an unfamiliar room, the starry night sky clear outside her window, and Baxter dozed nearby, slumped in the chair next to the fireplace. Wren wanted to call out to them, to shout for them to wake up and see her, but her mouth wouldn't work properly. Her eyelids felt heavy with sleep, and though she fought it, they shut, sending her back into dreamless slumber.

Next, it was Jill. Wren still couldn't speak, but Jill saw that she was awake.

“You must rest, Wren,” Jill said, bathing Wren's forehead with a cool washcloth. “Wielding the amount of stardust you did”—she wrung out the cloth over a bowl on the nightstand—“is unheard of, even for a full Fiddler. Rest.”

Wren struggled against it, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stay awake. Each time she opened her eyes, someone else was there, soothing her, telling her to sleep, that she was going to be all right, that all was well, that she must rest.

Once, before she even opened her eyes, she heard Mary's voice, and then Cole's answering her. “The gateway remains closed,” Cole had said definitively. “The Ashes confirmed it.”

“And at what cost?” Mary sounded sad. “Two apprentices.”

“Jack and Wren both still live,” Cole had said. “Don't give up hope.”

Wren wanted to comfort Mary, to tell her she was all right, but her mouth felt dry as dust, as though she might never speak again. She wanted to tell them that Nod must be okay, because for the first time in a long while she hadn't dreamed about it. She hoped that meant Robin was all right now. Wren pushed hard, fighting through the way her jaw felt wired shut, but
to no avail. Sleep came unbidden, and Mary and Cole were gone.

Each time she woke, it was someone else. Once she even saw her parents, which she knew was impossible. Most of the time it was Jill or Liza. Sometimes they washed her forehead. Other times they held a spoonful of hot broth to her lips. But beyond that Wren couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't do more than blink at them. Until the time Simon came.

Wren opened her eyes, looking immediately to the chair where someone always sat. Instead of a person, though, she saw her falcon perched on it, and behind the chair stood Simon, looking down at her with his warm brown eyes.

Wren felt happy tears prickle at the back of hers, and her wooden mouth melted into the hint of a smile.

“Thank you,” she managed through parched lips.

Simon's eyes grew wide, as though Wren had done something unimaginable. He disappeared from sight, and Wren moved her head weakly, watching Simon run to the door.

“She's awake!” he called out to the hallway. “And she spoke.”

The next moment her room was filled with people.
Simon and Jill. Baxter and Liza and Mary and, next to her, Cole. Wren blinked. And beyond them, her parents. Wren's mother and father hovered behind the Fiddlers, eyeing them warily. Mary drew close, leaned over and felt Wren's forehead, peering into her eyes.

“The sickness is breaking. She'll recover,” Mary said breathlessly. “She's going to be all right.” She clasped Wren's hand in both of her own. “You're going to be just fine, Wren, you wonderful girl, you.”

“And Jack?” Wren was surprised at how tiring it was to say the words. Like being awake for two minutes was running a marathon.

“Jack is here, too,” Mary said, but she wouldn't meet Wren's eyes. She looked down at her hand. “But he hasn't woken. The Ashes brought you both back from the gateway.”

Wren felt her eyelids beginning to close. She fought to keep them open. She had so many questions. She wanted to talk to the Ashes. To find out what the others knew. Did they hate Jack? Did they know how Boggen had tricked him? She worked her mouth, but no words came out.

“We're tiring her out. She must rest to regain her strength.” Mary rose, shooing the others out of the
room. “Suzette? Walter?” Wren wanted more than anything to sleep, but she saw her parents drawing near, and she willed her eyes open for a few more moments.

“Little Bird,” her dad said, tears making his eyes all shiny. “We've missed you so much.”

“We love you, sweetie.” Wren's mom kissed her on her forehead. “We won't go anywhere. We'll be right here when you wake up.”

Wren wondered if this was actually happening. Her parents? And the Fiddlers? The last thing she saw was them settling into the unoccupied chairs by her bedside, her mom and dad sharing a smile. Wren stopped fighting. She had done it. She had saved Jack and kept Boggen from opening the gateway. Mary's words echoed through her mind. She was going to be okay.

Wren let her eyes shut, succumbing to sleep, and, for the first time since the gateway, she dreamed of Nod.

I
am so very grateful for all those who have contributed to
A Sliver of Stardust
and feel indescribably fortunate to work with such amazing and talented people.

I want to especially thank my agent, Laura Langlie, for her support and insight into the story; Erica Sussman and Stephanie Stein for their brilliant and creative editorial notes; Jakob Eirich for his breathtaking artwork, and the entire team at HarperCollins Children's for their partnership and commitment to getting good books into the hands of readers. I know very little of the magic that turns the plain document I produce into the lovely book readers hold in their hands, but I deeply appreciate the contribution of all those who have made it possible.

Heartfelt thanks also to Joy McCullough-Carranza
for bravely reading a very early draft, to Casey Walton for sharing his mad brainstorming skills with me, to Christy Goodman for cheering me on through writerly angst, to Renee Weathers for the gift of her loyal and longstanding friendship, to Steve and Ron for their truthful and life-giving insights, and to the many kindred spirits at Advent for your encouraging words when the writing process was less than magical. I am so thankful I get to know you and share life with each of you.

A few lines on this page always feels too small to properly thank my husband, Aaron. But hopefully the gratitude I feel comes through loud despite its littleness: Without your love and partnership, I wouldn't be the person, or writer, that I am. Thank you. And to my boys, Griffin, Elijah, and Ransom: I'm so glad that you are you! You each are wonderful gifts, and I'm so happy to get to be your mom.

And, finally, to my readers: One of my favorite things about meeting other book lovers is the instant friendship that comes when I discover someone with whom I share a favorite story. As a writer, that feeling is magnified a thousand percent, and I am so happy to have shared this story-world with you. Thank you for reading.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY: BARRY GREGG

MARISSA BURT
was forever getting notes sent home from teachers about reading novels during class. She grew up in Oregon and now lives in the Seattle area with her husband and three sons. Marissa is also the author of
Storybound
and
Story's End.
You can visit her online at
www.marissaburt.com
.

Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at
hc.com
.

Storybound

Story's End

Cover art © 2015 by Jakob Eirich

Lettering by David Coulson

Cover design by Michelle Taormina

A SLIVER OF STARDUST
. Copyright © 2015 by Marissa Burt. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

www.harpercollinschildrens.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Burt, Marissa.

   A sliver of stardust / Marissa Burt. — First edition.

      pages cm

   Summary: After a strange encounter at a science competition, Wren Matthews discovers a secret magical order known as the Fiddlers, and must learn to use the power of stardust to save them, herself, and the world from the return of a sinister enemy.

   ISBN 978-0-06-229155-4 (hardcover)

   EPub Edition © September 2015 ISBN 9780062291578

   [1. Fantasy.] I. Title.

15  16  17  18  19    
CG/RRDH
    10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

FIRST EDITION