The Starriest Summer (The Cycle of the Six Moons, #1)

Chapter Three: Ticking Toward Paralysis

In the labyrinth of floating walkways around the corner, I catch the first glimpse of the villagers. They're more like statues, frozen mid-action, with a leg in front of another or an arm passing a basket from the left to right. Though their bodies are motionless, the wind flows through their hair and loose, colorful garments. They're like something from Medusa's art gallery, and I don't want to walk too close in case they jump to life, latch onto my neck and suck my life from behind.

Gediyon, however, walks right up to a particularly droopy living statue and says, "We've brought the rush fish. Hang in there. You'll be back to normal very soon." He waves his hand and says, "This way, Michelle."

"So this is what the poison did to them? They're not like zombified are they?"

He simply answers, "Yes," then adds, "I must hurry and cook this fish stew before their respiratory systems fail as well."

I giggle out of nerves when I pass one of the statues. I hope the same doesn't happen to me.

As he leads me into the heart of the village, more people come into view. Not all of them move as slow as the statues we had passed. Some of them only look like they're in slow motion, and others look normal. I see other men dressed similarly to Gediyon who also have water magic. Water forms at their fingertips, and they pass the fresh water around the villagers to drink. I smile when I see children thank the mages with hugs.

"That stuff is safe to drink, right?" I ask him.

"Fortunately, yes, otherwise the entire village would have succumbed to the poison."

He finally stops at the largest and probably most well-lit hut in the village. The main building is round and circular, built into a tree trunk that extends higher. Bird calls echo high in the treetops. Several windows, glowing orange with candlelight, are carved into the trunk, and fluttering from them are beautifully designed silk sheets. Pearly seashells frame the open doorway.

Inside, someone plays an instrument that looks like a lute. Everyone in here reclines on woven mats or snores against the curved walls. At least they aren't statues, though. The burning candles smell like sandalwood, but from somewhere else flows the scent of something delicious, like my mom's cooking before she became too lazy to cook from scratch. Whatever it is makes my mouth water and I'm almost afraid that I'll drool onto one of the sleeping villagers.

Gediyon starts inside. The villagers who are still awake reach for him and for a moment, he takes their hands and squeezes them, then gives them a smile for reassurance.

"Mayor Rayel!" Gediyon calls. "I've brought the fish, and a special guest."

From the other side of the hut walks a short, balding man of about sixty or so. He wears a blue, red, and orange square cap on top of his shiny head, tinted glasses, and a brown apron over his clothes, which resemble the other villagers'. He holds a spatula that appears to be carved out of a shell.

"Thank Goddess that you're back so early!" the mayor says. He greets Gediyon with a hug. "I've already chopped the vegetables for you, and the broth is in the pot. Thank you so much!"

"Thank you, Mayor. I'll begin right away." Gediyon pats the mayor on his shoulder, and leads the sphere of water around the hut into what I think is the kitchen. Poor fishies.

I follow him, when the mayor sees me and gasps, "Goddess?"

Gediyon peeks his head into view. "Er, Mayor, sir—"