A boy spellbound by a labyrinthine forest. A brotherhood shaken by pain. What wind might be caught on night waters, where nothing feels constant but starlight?
A boy spellbound by a labyrinthine forest. A brotherhood shaken by pain. What wind might be caught on night waters, where nothing feels constant but starlight?
Swift struck a match, brightening the face of his best friend.
Feeling Ash by his sideâimagining Ash was actually on his sideâit was even more thrilling than the idea of reclaiming the book Caius, Swiftâs older brother, had unjustly taken from them.
Swift hushed the matchâs flame inside an old oil lantern, keeping the wick barely simmering. He glanced at Ash.
Ashâs expression formed into the cunning look of adventure Swift always had loved.Â
It seemed, at this moment, that Ash could be trusted. That finally they were salvaging what theyâd lost. What theyâd broken.
âWhere could Caius have hidden your book?â Ash whispered.
The Pembrokeshire beach house wasnât large, but it kept plenty of great places to conceal the book of sea histories and legends Caius had confiscatedâThe Shepherd of the Stars. Swiftâs only hope lay in the possibility that Caius hadnât tried very hard to hide it.Â
Perhaps, though, he hadnât.
When Caius had stumbled through the front door in the wee hours, his face bright and cheered by his wine, his hand clasping Brookeâs, theyâd spent just a minute downstairs before stumbling up to the master bedroom. Â
Swift and Ash, both awake on their cots in the den, had kept stone still. But neither of them had seen precisely where, in the dark room, Caius had walked.
âI bet he stuffed it someplace by the front door.â Swift picked up the lantern and led Ash toward the entryway.
At the base of the stairs, he paused.Â
Caius and Brooke, up there, behind the closed door, were speaking softly. Laughing quietly.
âWhat if they took it up with them?â asked Ash.
Caius and Brookeâs laughter changed. Into somethingâŚelse.
Swift snatched Ashâs arm and pulled him away from the stairs.
As gently as he could, Swift opened the coat closet in the entryway, while Ash rifled through a cabinet, drawer by drawer. Both came up empty-handed.
A storage trunk, its old blue wood silvered by light shafting in from the cold autumn moon, caught Swiftâs eye.Â
Swift whispered, âHe wouldnât have.âÂ
It was just a plain trunk for blankets, but to Swift it was magical. When he was small, Caius had commandeered it as a makeshift treasure chest in their play.
Swift opened the trunk.
The blue moon streaming in through the beach houseâs windows tumbled across the silver print on the cover of his aged book, The Shepherd of the Stars.
âNice work!â Ash lifted the book from among the woolen folds.
Caius had taken The Shepherd of the Stars from Swift in a fury, accusing accused him flat out of lying, which had been unfair.Â
It was true, Swift had kept the book from Caius, Brooke, and Ash, and even from the museum curator to whom heâd formally agreed to show all his finds. But he was planning on telling everyone about itâjust not yet.Â
Swift and Ash together startled at the floorboards above them creaking. Rhythmically.
âWe have to get out of here.â Swift hurried to the front door.
Ash, staring up the flight of steps, stalled. âDonât you sort of wonder what theyâre doing?â
âGod, no.âÂ
From growing up with three older brothersâCaius the closest at twenty-fourâthese noises werenât new. And Swift had heard plenty of talk to let him understand exactly what Caius and Brooke were doing. Swift quietly lifted the lantern.Â
Ash crept back to the trunk.
âWhat are you doing?â Swift whispered. âWe donât have much time.â
âGetting blankets,â said Ash. âIf your fever strikes again, we wonât be able to get to the museum tomorrow.âÂ
Ash was right. They had to be cautious. Swift was at the tail end of a recurring fever diseaseâborn from a blood infection heâd landed after the boating accident with Caius.Â
And tomorrow was the day heâd find out whether he could keep the relics heâd discoveredâhis Sunstone, the Star of Atlantis; the book thatâd led him to it; and its ancient map.Â
âWarmth and quiet,â whispered Ash, handing Swift a blanket. âThatâs what Brooke said you need to stay well.â
But more than warmth and quiet, Swift needed to understand what secrets this book of legends told. He had to know what insights it might keep about the Star of Atlantis. And his place in its mystery.
Swift softly opened the front door and slipped out, Ash following.
They together broke into a run, racing each other beneath Pembrokeshireâs blazing constellations, Draco the starry black dragon and Cygnus the blue swan bright in flight straight above.
Swift ran so fast, so hard, he felt he was charging along the Milky Way. The sense of sea wind bathing his face, the ecstasy of straining over packed sand, bright white and sparkling like stars in the ocean of black overhead, was ecstasy.
Just a week ago, he wouldnât have been able to run like this. The fever disease had dropped him into a coma for nine days, and coming out of that, he couldnât do much of anything without dropping into fits of exhaustion. He couldnât even read like he used toâsailing through one of Caiusâ medical texts in a week.Â
They tore to the campsite on the beach, its kindling cold now, where theyâd been reading The Shepherd of the Stars before Caius confiscated it. Before Brooke slipped it into her satchel, keeping it. Damn Brooke.
Ash won their race, reaching the charred firewood an instant before Swift. He hollered.
âHey, quiet.â Swift, needing to catch his breath, knelt in the cold sand.
âWe donât have to be quiet anymore,â said Ash. âI mean, Brooke and Caius couldnât hear us from all the way out here.â
âCaius seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to what Iâm up to.â Swift swelled the flame inside the lantern. âIâd rather not tempt fate.â
Ash checked the dark house behind them. âAny chance theyâll see our light?â
âTheir bedroom doesnât look out this way. They wonât see us unless they come downstairs.âÂ
A wave of exhaustion washed from the sprint. Swift dropped back to sitting in the sand.
Ash knelt before him. âWell, open the book to where we left off.â
Swift studied the worn cover of The Shepherd of the Stars. Looking at it, a pang of regret struck. Maybe he shouldnât have kept this a secret. But heâd done so for very good reasons.Â
And despite how much fun this was, sneaking out to the beach with Ash to read it, deep down, he wished Ash hadnât found out about it. Now, Swift would have to report to the museum curatorâOctavian Krakau.Â
Octavian wasnât just untrustworthy, as Ash could be. Octavian felt dangerous.
Heâd been cordial with Ash, like they were old friends. But the way heâd watched Swiftâthe finder of the Star of Atlantis, it seemed heâd been harboring a fury kept barely under control.Â
And heâd been so possessive of it, along with Swiftâs other relicsâthe Star of Atlantis book and its map.
Ash inched closer. âLetâs find out if it talks about those old Welsh clansâwhether theyâre still around. What secrets they mightâve kept.â
A noise soundedâfar off, from the north. From the great ancient forestâthe Wentletrap Forest.Â
It was like a dogâs howl, but more savage.Â
Like something hungry or in pain.
Thatâd been the very same sound heâd heard earlier tonight when heâd slipped into the Wentletrap Forest.Â
Swift stared at the forestâs deep shadow looming up the coast, delivering to the wind a smell of wildness, of leaf litter, of pine.Â
Heâd heard something very like it, too, on the night of the boating accident, while searching the wilds for help and stumbling across the fisherman. It was the sound the fisherman had said was âa summons.â
The noise struck louderâits shrillness, its ferocity sending a chill through him.Â
âHave you ever heard a noise like that?â asked Swift.
âProbably.â Ash shrugged. âItâs just a night noise. Only someoneâs dog.â
The howlâthe creaturely screamârang again.Â
That was no dog. And there were no people around here to have dogs.
But Ash seemed unafraid. He seemed hardly to have noticed.
âGo on,â said Ash. âTry to read more from your book. Like you said, we donât have much time.â
Swift flipped through the stiff pages of The Shepherd of the Stars to where he and Ash had left offâto a section titled, The People of the Stones.Â
This told about the mysterious, mage-like Welsh clan thought to have originated from Nordic countries.Â
They were treasure finders. Mystics who kept secrets and wisdom and claimed to have visions. People of the sea who hid and guarded treasures. People who still might stand guard over treasures.
Swift turned the page.
There lay a woodblock illustration of an ancient oak tree, sharp points of starlight descending in the background. A man was drawn at the base of the tree, holding a streaming lantern.
Looking at this picture brought Swift a strong sense of what heâd seen not two hours ago, when, in the Wentletrap, heâd spied a ghostly person moving by low lamplight.
But he couldnât really say it was the same. The fevers made him second guess his perception, and even now he was struggling through a fit of chills that signaled the onset of an intense one.Â
Swiftâs doctorâDr. Keatsâthought the impairment of the fevers, his challenges with reading, might be temporary.Â
But who knew? The eerie person in the forest with his lantern couldâve been a hallucination. And the glowing eyes Swift had sightedâthatâd sighted himâwhat if theyâd been nothing more than a waking dream?
Swift laid the book in the sand. Closed it.
âWhatâs the matter?â asked Ash, a tint of frustration in his voice. âWe have to keep reading.â
But Ash looked more than frustrated. Was he angry?Â
It was upsetting anytime Ashâs demeanor changed like this. Mostly, he displayed kindness. But when he shifted into agitation, Swift worried that heâd been foolish to bring Ash here with him.Â
Even at the best of times, depending on Ash felt like riding a bike blindfolded, reflexively fearing that something destructive was coming.
But Ash, too, was trying to heal. And it seemed their reborn, discordant friendship was making that happen.Â
Swift watched Ash, waiting to see which side might get the better of him.
Ash asked more softly, âDonât you want to keep reading?âÂ
He was trying to recover his patience. And of course Swift should give him the space to check himself.Â
Ash was here, right before him, reflecting the loyalty and support Swift badly needed.
Swift often told himself that all his setbacks were temporary. That he just needed some time, some practice, before diving into the difficult medical books, readying for the trials that could win him a seat in a medical internship program.Â
Every sea legend book Swift had tried to read with Ash, he found he could blaze through. Reading these booksâespecially The Shepherd of the Starsâseemed the best way, if not the only way, to gain back his bearings for reading medicine.
âI know you can do this,â said Ash, more gently still.Â
By persevering through their five years of separationâa mixture of silent persistence, unrequited reaching, and strife, Swift finally now had Ashâs confidence. He might really be earning back his best friend.Â
âWhat if Caius is right, though?â asked Swift.Â
Caius, who seemed to be losing confidence in Swift. Caius, who believed Swiftâs legend books were detracting from his capacity to read biochemistry and anatomy.
âWhat if Iâm only creating distractions by exploring this? Caius wants me to set aside all these fantasies.â
Ash crouched closer. âThink about what you saw in the Wentletrap.â
If Swift had hallucinated that man in the forest, those glowing eyesâthat could mean Caius was right.
âWhat if what I saw wasnât real?â Swift asked.
âLook.â Ash shifted to sitting by him. âYou have to keep your brother out of your head. He means well, Iâm sure, but heâs bloody controlling.â He pulled the book back onto Swiftâs lap. âAnd besides, he doesnât understand these books like we do.â He caught Swiftâs glance. âThey arenât fantasies. Theyâre histories.â
Ash had a handsome, muscular face, and the expression he was casting was puckish. By it Swift felt he was slipping straight back to his childhood, to the company of the old Ash; to when he and Ash were each otherâs first and best friends; to when they could get lost in each otherâs adventures and spend whole days in the magical worlds they made up.
Swift glanced back at the beach house, where Caius and Brooke were certainly knotted up together in the sheets.Â
Brooke was the first girl Caius had ever brought home. Since he had, heâd grown distant and seemed less himself. The Caius Swift knew never would have chosen a girl over him.Â
It suddenly seemed not to matter whether The Shepherd of the Stars was history or fantasy, whether it was a distraction or a support. There seemed to be enough truth in the fact of himself and his best friend venturing through it together, entranced.
Swift shifted to kneeling in the cold sand. By the light of his lantern, he opened The Shepherd of the Stars.
Ash settled in front of him, beside the cold embers. âRead it to me like you were doing before they caught us. Itâs okay if you have to go slowly.â
Swift smoothed the page. âThis bit mentions Cynfael Maddox.â
âThatâs incredible,â said Ash. âWhatâs it say?â
Swift readâ
âCynfael Maddox came to be known as âThe Shepherd of the Starsâ by his peculiar fondness for wandering along starry beaches, through ancient oak forests by night, speaking wisdom to the ocean, to the trees. Some say he cast spells on the people he happened upon.â
âWhoa,â said Ash. âThatâs precisely what you described seeing tonight. Do you think that man you saw cast a spell on you?â
âI donât knowâhe didnât come near me,â said Swift. âOrâI donât think he did.â He wiped at his eyes, tearing from the wind and from a heat welling in his chest.Â
The lighthearted expression faded from Ash. âThat fisherman you saw the night you and Caius wreckedâif heâs some sort of descendant from Maddoxâs clan, maybe he didnât just land that knife cut on your chest, but actually did cast a spell on you. The Shepherd of the Stars clanâif they do have mystical powers and foresight, maybe your struggle to read, to focus, is because of a spell. What if your whole fever disease is some sort of curse?âÂ
Swift laid aside the book.
âWe have to keep going.â Ash glanced toward the beach house.Â
âI want to.â Swift shivered. âItâs justâIâm getting so cold.â
Ash threw one of the blankets around Swiftâs shoulders. âShould we light the campfire?â
âNo way. We can re-hide the book well enough, but when Caius wakes up, the first thing heâll do is come out here and make sure the embers are dowsed.â Swift pulled the blanket tightly around him. âHeâd definitely notice if more wood were burned.â
âCanât you read any more?â Ash tucked the second blanket around Swift. âTry. Or let me.âÂ
Swift handed him the book.
Ash rifled through. âIâll see if I can find anything more about Maddoxâs spells.âÂ
Swift pulled the blankets up around his neck and ears.Â
They were woolen blankets and very thickâwhere they enclosed him, heat blazed. But the cold wind drifting from the ocean, trickling through the gaps, felt like a drenching of seawater.
Ash bent low to the lantern and studied a page. âYou said this handwriting is like the penmanship in The Star of Atlantis?â
âI think itâs the very same. But Iâll need to get that book back from Octavian to be sure.â
âWhat if that book is cursed too?â asked Ash. âWhat if the bloody Sunstone is cursed? What if all this is the reason you and Caius almost drowned when you led him into that deathtrap of Sterncastle Cove?â
At hearing Ash speak the truth of the accident, Swiftâs chest seared. It mightâve just been the cut, still raw and flaring a bit at the heat of what had to be a rising fever.Â
But this agony felt deeper. Heâd led Caius into a deathtrap.
âOh! Hereâs something.â Ash laid the book on the sand before them.Â
âThose encountering Cynfael Maddox often reported leaving his presence dazed.â
Ash pulled closer the lantern. âYou had to be dazed as you sailed off from that fisherman into those deadly night waters.â He glanced up at Swift. âWerenât you dazed?â
âI guess, but that was the fever disease starting,â said Swift. âNot a curse.â
âAnd Iâd say youâre looking a bit dazed now,â said Ash. âYou might be lucky the man you saw tonight didnât cut you.â
âIf Cynfael Maddox and his clan cut everyone stumbling onto their path, wouldnât the book talk of them as villains more than heroes? And wouldnât it speak plainly of his violence if people left his presence cut and blood-poisoned rather than âdazed?ââ
âCut and blood-poisoned.â Ash held up the lantern. âAre you all right? I mean, even in this poor light, I can tell the colorâs gone out of your face. Thatâs one of the signs Brooke told me to look out forâit might mean a feverâs starting.â
Swift was unable to control the shivering now.Â
This was definitely the fever relapsing, but it wasnât just starting. The truth was, heâd felt its slow simmering since a few hours ago, when he refused to take the medicine Brooke offered. Now it seemed to have its claws in him.
âWe should go in,â said Swift.
âOne more second.â Ash flipped through more pages. âWhoaâlisten to thisâ
âThe so-called âspellsâ Cynfael Maddox usedâsome believe these toÂ
be bits of great thoughts and of wisdom. Insights about the CelticÂ
seven-pointed star, about seafaring, astronomy, andÂ
mathematics.âÂ
Ash thumbed back a few pages. âThat would explain why there are so many maths formulas and chemistry looking things and such rubbish scrawled all over the place in this book. These might somehow be Cynfaelâs pieces of wisdom. Or somehow his curses.â
âAsh,â Swift whispered.Â
The fever was definitely spiking. Swiftâs skin and muscles were quaking with the sensation of ice touching him, but inside his chest and belly, it seemed lava was boiling.Â
âListen,â said Ashâ
âPeople encountering the spirit of Cynfael Maddox overÂ
centuries often reported that they felt a sense of destiny, a greatÂ
wisdom imparted. Many think of him as a true renaissance manâ
a magnificent teacher with endless ideas and knowledge. AndÂ
some in his company were known to be gifted with foresight.â
Swift tried to catch Ashâs glance. âI needâŚâ
Ash read onâ
âAnd their lives, after meeting Maddox, often were changed.â
Ash finally looked at Swift. âYour life certainly did change. But do you think the fisherman imparted any wisdom?âÂ
Swift lost all strength and fell to his side.
âSwift?â Ash knelt over him.
Swift couldnât speak. Couldnât breathe.Â
The trembling from the fever seemed more than just chills.Â
His body was spasming.Â
Seizing.
Dr. Keats had said seizures were possible. And Swift was losing all control of his body.
âGet Caius,â Swift said, or tried to.
In what seemed like seconds later, Caius was kneeling over him, pushing back the blankets, clearing away the kindling pile Swiftâs wild hands were hitting.Â
âYouâre okay.â Caius held onto Swiftâs shoulder. âI have you.â
Brooke knelt at Swiftâs head and gently guarded his face from the sand he was kicking up.
âFrom the porch, I saw him tip,â Caius said to Ash. âWas he seizing before then, or did this just begin?â
Ashâs face was tear-streaked. âI donât know.â
Brooke filled a syringe. Caius held down Swiftâs arm as she injected it.
The shot incited a pleasurable buzz that took Swiftâs mind off the fact that he hardly could move. After a moment, his body calmed, and he dropped into a state of complete exhaustion.
âIs he not breathing?â asked Ash. âWhatâs happening?â
âThis is a febrile seizure,â said Brooke, calmly. âIt looks scary, I know. But heâll be all right.â
Caius, seeming to catch Brookeâs half-lie, glanced at her.
Swift knew exactly what Caius was thinking. It was a bad sign that a fever had stricken so hard as to spur this.
Caius carefully dusted sand from Swiftâs face. âIf we hadnât happened to come down just thenâŚâ
Ash bent closely over Swift. âIs he through it?â
Caius moved Ash back. âWhat were you two even doing out here?â
âMy fault,â Swift whispered.
Ash, clever as always in a tight place, slid their contraband book beneath a discarded blanket.
âNo, the fault was mine,â said Ash. âSwift said he was hot. I thought coming outside would help.â
Caius pinned Ash with a glare. âNext time, check with us.â
âWe were going toââ Ash glanced from Caius to BrookeââbutâŚâÂ
Caiusâ look sharpened. âUnderstand, lad. If you canât help us care for Swiftâif you interfere with the rest he needsâthen youâre gone.â
Ash, gone. Ashâthe only help Swift really had, with Caius well-claimed by Brooke. AshâSwiftâs only link to feeling that he was in any sort of control.
âIâm sorry,â said Ash. âI canât tell you how sorry. Of course I want to care for Swift. Please, let me stay. Iâve tried to help him. Iâll keep trying.â
âYou can save your begging,â said Caius. âI really donât buy it. Youâre proving more distracting to him than any legend book.âÂ
The words seemed to sink Swift.
Brooke offered Caius a gentling look. âThis may have happened to Swift whether they came out here or not. You know that, right?â
âThis shouldnât have happened.â Caius glanced at Ash. âTrusting him seems to have been a mistake.â
Darkness encased Swift. Whether he was losing some consciousness, or whether another fit of seizing was coming on, he couldnât tell. All he knew was that he couldnât feel whether he was breathing.
âI truly am sorry,â said Ash.
âOne more false move out of you,â said Caius, âand Iâm sending you straight back to Devon. Got it?â
âCanâtââSwift snatched Brookeâs handââcanât breathe.â
#
For fourteen year old Swift, the quest for the Star of Atlantis is about much more than finding a lost artifact: it is about proving not only his own self worth, but also the truth of a centuries-old legend. Swift and his older brother Caius have only barely survived their harrowing journey to discover the secrets of a notoriously dastardly cove. Caius is scarred by a severe leg injury while Swift is battling recurrent and intense fevers that impact his ability to focus and study like he used to do. Despite their setbacks, though, the brothers are determined to move ahead with their lives in the best way they know how. As often happens, though, both Swift and Caius find themselves pulled in specific directions, and they are set along paths they had not initially predicted.
This third installment of the Star of Atlantis series begins not long after the second book ends and focuses significantly on the road to recovery faced by both Caius and Swift. After their shared accident, the brothers have become changed, their individual life trajectories irrevocably altered by their experiences that fateful day. These divergences cause the boys to become less close than they once were, which is amplified within Swift both by his ongoing illness and the fact that the age of fourteen is a turbulent time in and of itself. Readers of all ages will appreciate the intensity of the feelings observed in Swift as he struggles to make sense of the new world in which he has emerged.
Wagner has a beautiful and poetic writing style which serves to enhance the descriptive detail she provides to her novels. This gives her books a whimsical and otherworldly quality that supports the fantastical elements within them. Readers who appreciate thoughtful narratives that focus on the human condition within the context of charming and memorable stories will quickly fall for this series and its immersive quality. Additionally, medical and scientific elements are found within this book to help readers puzzle out the question of what is true in Swiftâs world alongside the legend and lore. It is important to have read the previous books before beginning this one, though this book does a good job of reminding readers of past events if time has passed since reading the preceding stories. This is a satisfying story that will speak to young adult readers and adults alike.