A Dream of the Heaven

Chapter 18 (Part 2 of 2)

For several seconds, Imlon stared upward, immobile except for his falling jaw and widening eyes.  The blood in his veins slowed to a crawl.

A new star.  The Viper had seven points, not eight.  A new star.

A thunderclap smashed into the astronomer’s heart, the shock firing his nerves into life.  He sprinted back into the inn, flew past Temith, and burst into his chamber. 

“Bloody ‘byss, Imlon, what are you doing?”

The astronomer ignored his brother’s voice.  He rifled through his belongings, casting aside clothing and books and more in his search.  There it was – his tiny telescope.  He ran from the chamber, clutching the instrument in his hand.  The moment he was back in the yard, he threw his gaze upward, an eye to the lens.

The new star was extraordinary in its intensity, outshining every other point in the sky, even the planets, almost the moon.  It was unfathomable.  A new star.  A new star!

“Do you see it?” he said as he heard feet behind him.

“What?” said Isendrin.

“That star.  There!  Do you see it?”

“Of course I see it.  Imlon, what...”

“Do you see that star?” said Imlon, as Temith and the host emerged.  “I am not imagining it?”

“Yes.  Is it...heaven, it’s bright.”

Imlon did not wait for the host’s answer, but ran around the side of the inn onto the street.  A group of men were returning up the hill to their homes.

“Good sirs!  Goodmen!  Do you see...” he began before remembering where he was.  “Solac?  Ir an anac?  No solac?”

The men looked up, then began pointing and shouting, nodding and cheering.  They were drunk, but reliable.

Imlon flung his head upward once more.  There was no mistaking it.  A new star.  A new star – and everyone saw it.  They would be seeing it in Monruath.  Every scholar and clergyman would be seeing it in Monruath.

An instant later he was in his room, hurrying through the books he had brought with him.  Temith and Isendrin stood by.

“Imlon, what do you mean by this?” said Isendrin, “Tell me.”

“It’s a new star.  It is new.  I have never seen it before, no man has.  Look here,” Imlon opened up the book at the page on the Viper constellation, “Nothing.  Nothing in this book either, or this, and I’ve read them all a hundred times.  Godswings, that constellation has been known for millennia.”

“The Viper?” said Isendrin.  “That’s an omen.”

“But what does it mean?” said Temith.

Imlon’s jaw dropped again.  “What?” he cried.  “Don’t you see?  When I said the Anvil moved, I was charged with defying the immutability of the heavens.  Very well!  Only I had the means to see it with my telescopes, they could not.  But this!  They can see it.  By God, they can see it, and every man from Cathroug to Sirogor can see the same!  The universe changes!  They cannot deny it!”

Imlon’s head swam: images of scholars and clergymen, once sneering, now silent, flooded his head, their stifled jeering and snide questions blown away by searing starlight – but then, lurking behind, a cloud of doubt.

“I need my tools,” he whispered, his lip trembling.  “I must measure it.  I...Godswings.  Damn and Godswings.”

“Imlon,” said Temith, “Forgive my asking, but what good would measuring it do?”