Ixek and I return to camp under the cover of night. The route is familiar, the same I take to escape into the mountains without being spotted. We cross the sopping wet clearing to the cliff overlooking my cave. In the distance, I see guards standing watch over the mountain path. I'm grateful they have little reason to watch my cave. Apprehension prickles along my spine, though I'm not sure why. Nal m'se approved my departure from camp this time, and she won't deny it if we are caught.

"I'm going to stay up here," Ixek whispers, shattering my reverie. I'm so tired that it takes several blinks to process what he said.

"Oh. Alright." I glance around the dark forest. "You're just going to sleep out here?"

"That's what I normally do."

I nod slowly. "Hope you, uh, sleep well." I turn around and climb down the rocks before things turn awkward.

The cold stones stiffen my fingers. My grip turns tense and tough, like two claws supporting my body weight. It's mostly a wash of gray blobs. I've traveled the route so many times, my hands slot right into place, find the next hand or foothold automatically.

Blue snags in my peripheral. My hand freezes in place. To my left, mere inches from my hand, a blue butterfly perches on the rock. I stare at it, trying to regain my bearings while suspended above the ground. The glowing creatures mean only one thing: I'm being summoned.

The butterfly lifts into the air, fluttering into the night. I hesitate on the rock, deciding whether I should go up or down. If the Earthwatcher is waiting for me, it makes little sense to go to my cave. I'll have to make the trip up all over again.

But a tiny part of me hopes that the blue butterfly isn't a signal sent by the Earthwatcher. Maybe it's just lost or on a joyride. I know, it's such a wishful thought. But it's in the realm of possibility, right?

The glow returns stronger. Fluttering wings ascend from the darkness. A parchment levitates beneath them, though in reality, their tiny limbs probably have a way of latching onto it. This is definitely from the Earthwatcher. Who else would send glowing butterflies and a message?

My arms feel like they're going to fall off from hanging onto the rocks for so long. I drag myself painstakingly upward. It's only until I reach the top when I remember Ixek. He might be in the clearing. He might see me and the sentient butterflies.

I don't really care at this point. My arms are about to give out. One hand plants into moist grass, and somehow, I swing my leg onto solid ground. Anchoring myself against the rock, I roll onto the cliff, panting. Blue swarms above me. The parchment floats to land on my stomach. I open the white sheet with trembling hands. Trembling from the exertion, that is.

This is your final warning. Come, or I will destroy you.

The parchment falls from my hands. No. Is this from tonight?

Please let this be for tonight. I've worked so hard, made so many sacrifices. This can't be my undoing. My knees are like congealed fat when I stand, but I hurry into the forest. My eyes scan the clearing, then the forest as I pass. Ixek isn't in sight, to my relief.

The butterflies funnel around me, then take the lead. Adrenaline starts to kick in, and I run faster despite my fatigue. I have to find the Earthwatcher before it's too late.

Barren branches catch in my hair; twigs and leaves crunch underfoot. I nearly smack into several tree trunks, but the butterflies help to direct my path. Time slows despite my running. I don't see the hooded figure illuminated in her signature blue glow.

No. I have to explain to her. I couldn't get her message because I wasn't here. Nal m'se needed me to take a trip into the mountains. Surely the Earthwatcher would understand, right? I mean, she's the Earthwatcher. She ought to know this if she truly has eyes and ears everywhere. She'll have some sort of sympathy for me, right?

The butterflies stream through the trees. They seem faster than usual, perhaps sensing my desperation. Unless I lose the creatures, I won't give up hope. I will find the Earthwatcher. I have to.

I duck under a series of low-hanging branches. On the other side stands the Earthwatcher, poised in her usual, unmoving and shrouded stance.

"Ah, Celisae. Seems your lapse in judgment has... well... lapsed." A peal of laughter sings through the night.

"I'm sorry. I didn't get your message until tonight," I pant. "Please, I'll do anything. I will uphold my end of the bargain."

"Careful there, Celisae," the figure tsks. "Don't say you'll do anything. Those are very dangerous words."

I bite my tongue. She's right. I wouldn't give up Mother's secret, for instance.

"I-I just want you to know that I'm willing to make this up. Please, don't reveal my secret."

"Hmm." Tense silence descends between us. I can almost hear the Earthwatcher thinking, though what her thoughts are, I can't fathom. "How about this: you complete the task I have for you by the night after the next halfmoon, and we'll consider it settled."

"Really?" It feels like there's a catch. "What is the task? More sunlight or moonlight?"

"No," the Earthwatcher says, voice coated in sweetness. "This time, I want starlight."

Her voice echoes through the trees. I only latch onto one word in particular.

Starlight. Starlight. Starlight.

"Y-you're serious?" The tremor returns to my hands.

"Have my offers ever been a joke?"

"S-starlight." I lace my fingers together, squeezing tight. My voice rises in pace and volume. "I-I've never caught it before. I've barely even seen it." The ground drops from beneath me as the weight of reality bears down on my shoulders. My voice falls. "How am I going to collect enough for an entire cloak?"

"You would've had more time to figure it out if you weren't so late."

"It wasn't my fault! I was sent to the mountains."

My exclamation haunts the clearing. The Earthwatcher doesn't respond for a long while.

"To the mountain peaks?" Curiosity shines through her silvery voice. I nod slowly. "Why?"

"To... collect some rare materials." I fight the urge to rock on my heels. I don't need to reveal all of the matriarchs' secrets. Besides, she shouldn't need to ask if she truly watched the Earth.

"Really?" The figure sounds skeptical, but any emotion is quickly wiped from her tone. "Regardless, we had a deal. You weren't here when I called. I graciously waited three days for you to respond, or decide whether to come. Those three days are lost, and you'll have to make due. I need it the day after the next half-moon. Either be here, or lose everything you've come to treasure about your life in the tribe."

I gulp. It seems I don't have a choice. "Alright. I accept the deal."

***

The next morning, I run into Hannei and Yefto in the line for our first meal.

"Celisae! I'm so sorry we were scheduled for extra duties the last halfmoon," Hannei says.

I beam at them, though my eyes sag from our late arrival last night. "It's alright. Nal m'se explained it to me."

"We wanted to apologize earlier," Yefto says in his usual deep, jovial tone. "But we just kept missing you at mealtimes."

"It's no problem, really." The person in front of me moves on, and I step up to receive my bowl of food. I blink tired eyes up at Ulane m'ke. She ladles out two scoops of mushed corn and tops it with a winter apple.

"Enjoy." She gives me a tight lipped smile before serving the next person in line.

I do enjoy it. It's the first warm food I've had in three days. Dried meat and fruit gets old quickly. I tuck the apple away for Mother. In a few minutes, all the mush fills my stomach. I stand, on a hunt for Jeayma m'ke. A twinge of nausea stirs in my stomach, and I sit for a moment to recover. I must've eaten too fast.

Jeayma m'ke bobs through the crowd, a brown braid swinging down her back. I dive into the crowd, excusing myself and apologizing the whole time. At last, she's right in front of me.

"Jeayma m'ke!" I exclaim. She turns around.

"Ah, Celisae. So nice to see you." I can hear the unspoken words in her statement. So nice to see you back from the trip, and in one piece, no less.

"What are my tasks for today?" I ask. I clasp my hands behind my back. Please, let it not be too much. I need to find time to feed Mother and start collecting starlight.

"Nal m'se would like you to rest today. Tomorrow, you have ano—" She cuts off right before saying 'another.' "You have a long journey ahead of you."

"I do?" I ask slowly, stunned.

"Yes. Nal m'se would like you to assist us at the tribal summit and goods exchange since so much of your handiwork is being featured."

"Oh." Ordinarily, I would be honored by the position. I've only been invited once before. Usually, tribe members with thirty or forty years behind them go. But I need every spare second I can get to work on the starlight cloak.

There's no way to decline the offer, though. I would need a good reason, and of course, I can't provide it. To decline without explanation would almost be an insult, and it certainly wouldn't help me integrate into the tribe.

Jeayma m'ke softens her face. "I know it's last minute, and it's another long trip. But Nal m'se wanted to reward you for all that you've done for the tribe. This is one of the best ways to do that, though I'm sure you're well aware of it."

I nod. "I am truly grateful. Thank you for the opportunity to go." I dip my head out of respect.

"It's the least we can do. Take the day off, rest and pack." She smiles one more time before disappearing in the dwindling crowd.

I exhale a heavy sigh, trying to look on the bright side. At least I have all day to visit Mother and collect starlight. That is, if I can even find some.

***

"Mother?" I say, entering the cave. She sits upright in the cave. It's strange to see after so many years with her hunched over.

"Back so soon?" she asks. Her face is a mask, and I don't know which I should trust: the bitterness of her words or the amused twinkle in her eye.

"I brought you some dried meat and fruit, along with an apple from this morning. We didn't use all the food we took on the trip." I place the cloth containing it all before her.

"Saved the scraps for me, huh?"

"Mother, you know it's not like that."

She waves her hand, a piece of deer in hand. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't." She bites into it, then continues talking with her mouth full. "So, what was this little trip into the mountains?"

"Nal m'se wanted me to fetch some special supplies for the winter." The excuse I gave the Earthwatcher is good enough for Mother.

"Oh really?" Mother's eyebrows arch. She chews another bit. "What kind?"

"Some special type of flower. It has... healing properties. I can't remember the name."

"Or what it does. How convenient."

I swallow, torn between indignation and guilt. Why not just tell her the truth? She's my mother, after all. "I'm not a healer, you know." I say it quietly, a fact, not a defense.

"It's like you're forgetting yourself, doing this and that, going here and there." She crunches on the apples. Juice dribbles down her chin, and I wish to reach over to wipe it away. My feet stay rooted to the floor. "Well, at least you're back."

I close my eyes for an instant, gathering the courage to tell her about the next trip. "I'm going to the tribal summit tomorrow."

Mother's jaw halts. "What?" she exclaims. It's a good thing the food in her mouth muffles the sound.

"They invited me to go," I say, imbuing my voice with all the excitement I can muster. "This is a huge honor."

Mother harrumphs. "If it's such an honor, why don't the Matriarchs go? Why get poor, naive souls like yourself to do their bidding?"

"They are going. And I'm only helping out with the robes."

"Carrying quite a load down there, I imagine, and lugging plenty back."

"And helping with the trades!" I add. "The people receiving the clothes will get to meet one of the weavers behind the designs. This is a chance for recognition." And deeper integration into the tribe.

"Celisae, I've taken that trip. It's long and hard." Mother shakes her head. "You just don't get it. You're blind to how they're taking advantage of your skills."

"I've taken the trip too, Mother," I say, irritation creeping into my voice. "And frankly, I enjoyed the walk. Now, I've brought plenty of food to last the next few days, and I'll refill your water."

Mother peers down at the strips of brown, tan, and yellow piled on the white cloth. "This meager portion is for three days?"

"I'm sure you'll make it work." My teeth grit as I lift the water basin.

"No matter how attached you feel to the tribe," Mother calls after me, "never forget your roots, your family. We're the only ones you can truly trust."

Trust? This has nothing to do with trust. I shake my head, hurrying to the river. I have more important things to do than bicker with Mother.