THE TOWER OF FALSE STARS

The figure on Talvyr’s highest tower did not move.

Below it, an entire city remembered a history that the Star Warriors had never lived.

Yuki stood in the middle of the avenue while thousands of Talvyr’s citizens stared at her as though they were seeing someone return from the dead.

Above the rooftops, the stars continued rearranging themselves.

One vanished.

Another appeared.

A constellation twisted into a pattern Yuki had never seen.

Then another.

And another.

The sky was being edited.

Estiben’s Eleventh Compass trembled violently in his paw.

Its eleven outer points burned gold.

But the impossible twelfth light in the center had changed.

It was no longer blue.

It had become white.

“Estiben,” Kepi said. “What is it measuring?”

Estiben did not answer immediately.

His amber eyes moved from the Compass to the tower.

“I don’t know.”

Tokyo looked up.

“That’s becoming my least favorite answer.”

Briar stepped forward, purple cloak moving behind him as his eyes searched the surrounding roofs.

“Forget the stars for a moment. We have a figure above us, a city full of civilians who remember things that never happened, and no idea whether those memories are still changing.”

“They are,” Pip said.

Everyone looked down at the little mouse.

He stood on the edge of a stone fountain with his notebook open.

“I wrote this four minutes ago.”

He held up the page.

His handwriting was small but clear.

TALVYR CITIZENS CLAIM STAR WARRIORS VISITED CENTURIES AGO.

Beneath it was another sentence.

Different handwriting.

SECOND VISIT RECORDED AFTER THE FALL OF THE WESTERN MOON.

Pip’s whiskers stiffened.

“I didn’t write that.”

Margarito moved closer.

“Are you certain?”

Pip gave him a flat look.

“I’m an archivist.”

“Fair.”

Pip turned the notebook around.

“There’s more.”

A third line was slowly appearing across the paper.

Not written by a visible paw.

Ink simply emerged from the fibers.

THE PATHFINDER RETURNED ALONE.

Estiben went still.

The words continued.

HE OPENED THE TOWER.

Then:

HE SHOULD NOT HAVE.

The ink stopped.

Nobody spoke.

Tokyo finally looked at Estiben.

“I vote that you do not open the tower.”

Estiben closed the Compass.

“I appreciate the strategic depth of your recommendation.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m ignoring it.”

“Less thank you.”

Yuki looked toward the tower.

The figure remained there.

Waiting.

She could feel the familiar instinct rising inside her.

Go first.

Keep the others behind.

Take the risk herself.

She recognized it now.

That did not make it disappear.

It only made it harder to lie to herself about what she was doing.

“We go together,” she said.

Briar glanced at her.

“Not everyone.”

Yuki turned.

He was right.

Talvyr was changing around them. Leaving the entire city unattended while all of them climbed an unknown tower would be reckless.

Briar continued before Yuki could begin assigning roles.

“I’ll stay below with Kepi and Pip. We need to determine whether the alterations are local, historical or spreading beyond Talvyr.”

Kepi nodded.

“And somebody needs to compare physical records while they’re still physical.”

Pip hugged his notebook against his chest.

“Preferably before my notes develop opinions.”

Yuki looked at Briar.

For months, she would have issued the orders herself.

Now Briar was commanding.

And doing it well.

She nodded.

“Agreed.”

Briar did not thank her for permission.

That mattered too.

“Tokyo,” Briar said, “you take the Asteria shuttle and keep it disconnected. No automated navigation from Talvyr.”

Tokyo saluted casually.

“Finally. A mission involving me not trusting the computer. My natural environment.”

“You complain when the computer works.”

“I like consistency.”

Briar turned toward Yuki.

“You, Margarito and Estiben go to the tower.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Three?”

“Three.”

“And if—”

“If something goes wrong,” Briar interrupted, “we solve it from both ends.”

Yuki almost argued.

Then she remembered her own empty chair aboard the Asteria.

The ship had continued without her.

The universe had continued without her.

She nodded once.

“Both ends.”

Briar’s black nose twitched.

“Exactly.”

The tower had no entrance at street level.

That was the first problem.

The second was that everyone in Talvyr knew exactly where the entrance was.

They simply disagreed.

An elderly merchant insisted it was beneath the eastern bridge.

A young guard remembered entering through a silver door in the northern district.

A child pointed toward an alley and said his mother worked inside the tower every morning.

His mother stared at him in horror.

She had never entered it.

A historian claimed the tower had been sealed for four hundred years.

Another historian standing beside her remembered attending a conference there six months earlier.

Both produced documents.

Both documents appeared authentic.

Estiben listened to all of them.

He did not choose.

Yuki noticed.

“You don’t believe any of them.”

“I believe all of them believe what they’re saying.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

“No.”

Margarito’s ears shifted.

“They aren’t lying.”

Estiben glanced at him.

“That’s useful.”

Margarito smiled faintly.

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

“It means the deception is somewhere else.”

Margarito’s smile disappeared.

“That is less comforting.”

They reached a plaza beneath the tower.

Its walls rose directly from the center of Talvyr, black stone threaded with thin golden lines.

Yuki looked upward.

From here the tower appeared even taller.

Its upper section vanished into clouds.

Yet from the avenue they had clearly seen its summit.

“That’s impossible,” she said.

Estiben looked at the Compass.

“No.”

Yuki waited.

He added, “It’s contradictory.”

“That was going to be my second choice.”

Margarito looked at her.

“You’re spending too much time with Tokyo.”

“Probably.”

Estiben walked around the base.

The Compass did not point toward the tower.

It pointed away from it.

He stopped.

Turned.

The needle moved again.

Always away.

Yuki noticed.

“It doesn’t want us to approach.”

“Devices don’t want things.”

Margarito raised an eyebrow.

“In our experience, are you sure you want to make that statement?”

Estiben considered it.

“No.”

He placed the Compass against the stone.

The central light flashed.

For one instant the wall became transparent.

There was no interior.

No staircase.

No rooms.

Only stars.

Not the stars above Talvyr.

Different stars.

Then the wall returned.

Yuki stared at it.

“Did you see that?”

“Yes,” Estiben said.

Margarito stepped backward.

“I felt it.”

Yuki turned to him.

“What?”

“Distance.”

“How much?”

Margarito shook his head.

“Not physical distance.”

He searched for the words.

“It felt like remembering something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Estiben studied him.

“That sentence makes no sense.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Margarito almost smiled.

Then a voice spoke behind them.

“Pathfinder.”

Estiben turned.

A little gray kitten stood in the plaza.

No more than six or seven years old.

She wore a simple blue coat.

Her eyes were amber.

She looked directly at Estiben.

“You’re late.”

Yuki stepped between them.

“Who are you?”

The kitten ignored her.

Estiben crouched slightly.

“Late for what?”

The kitten pointed toward the tower.

“For the last time.”

Estiben’s expression changed.

“What last time?”

“You promised you would remember.”

“I don’t know you.”

The kitten frowned.

“Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“You taught me the Compass.”

Estiben froze.

The kitten touched her chest.

“My name is Nera.”

Something passed across Estiben’s face.

Not recognition.

Pain.

Margarito felt it too.

He turned sharply toward Estiben.

“Don’t.”

Estiben looked at him.

“Don’t what?”

“Follow the memory.”

Yuki’s attention snapped to Margarito.

“What memory?”

Estiben took one step backward.

His pupils widened.

“I remember her.”

Yuki felt the air become colder.

Estiben stared at the kitten.

“I remember teaching you.”

The kitten smiled.

“That’s because you did.”

“No.”

His breathing changed.

“I didn’t.”

Another memory arrived.

Yuki saw it happen.

Estiben staggered.

Margarito moved toward him but stopped before touching him.

“Estiben. Stay here.”

Estiben’s eyes were no longer focused on the plaza.

“I remember a classroom.”

The kitten waited.

“I remember twenty-three students.”

His voice weakened.

“I remember you sitting beside the window.”

“Estiben,” Yuki said.

“I remember your mother.”

The kitten smiled wider.

“My mother loved you.”

Estiben recoiled.

“No.”

“You promised her.”

“No.”

“You promised you would take us home.”

Estiben grabbed the Eleventh Compass.

His paw shook.

Yuki stepped directly into his field of vision.

“Look at me.”

He did.

“Where are you?”

“Talvyr.”

“Who are you?”

“Estiben.”

“What do you know?”

He struggled.

“My colony disappeared.”

“What do you know?”

“I survived because I was away.”

“What do you know?”

His breathing slowed.

“I wrote everything down.”

The kitten’s expression changed.

The smile vanished.

Margarito whispered, “Good.”

Estiben stared at the child.

“I don’t know you.”

Nera looked hurt.

It was convincing.

That was what made it dangerous.

“You will.”

Then she disappeared.

Not in light.

Not in smoke.

Yuki blinked—

and the plaza was empty.

Estiben looked at the place where she had stood.

His expression remained controlled.

But Yuki could see fear beneath it.

For the first time, Nexaris had found the Pathfinder’s weakness.

It had not erased his memory.

It had added one.

Far below the tower, Pip screamed.

Briar and Kepi turned.

The mouse had been sorting physical documents across a library table.

Now dozens of pages were changing simultaneously.

Maps redrew themselves.

Names appeared.

Dates shifted.

Entire paragraphs transformed.

Kepi grabbed one.

“What happened?”

Pip pointed toward a historical census.

A name had appeared repeatedly.

NERA VENN.

Briar’s eyes narrowed.

“Ilyra Venn?”

Pip shook his head.

“Different.”

He flipped through the pages.

“Nera Venn appears in records going back three hundred years.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I know.”

Pip stopped.

One record showed something worse.

He placed it in front of Briar.

A photograph.

Old.

Faded.

Estiben stood in it.

Not someone resembling Estiben.

Estiben.

He stood beside the gray kitten.

Behind them was the tower.

Handwritten beneath the image:

PATHFINDER ESTIBEN AND APPRENTICE NERA VENN — THIRD TALVYR EXPEDITION.

Kepi stared.

“He has never been here.”

Pip whispered:

“History disagrees.”

Briar immediately reached for the disconnected communicator.

“Yuki.”

Static.

“Yuki, respond.”

Nothing.

Kepi looked toward the ceiling.

“Tower interference?”

Briar’s jaw tightened.

“Or history.”

Yuki’s communicator died at the same moment.

She checked it.

Nothing.

Estiben’s Compass began rotating again.

Margarito looked toward the tower.

“There.”

A door now existed in the wall.

Yuki was certain it had not been there before.

Black stone.

Gold frame.

Eleven symbols.

And a twelfth symbol at the center.

Estiben stared at it.

“I’ve seen that door.”

Yuki looked at him.

“In your real memories?”

He did not answer.

That was answer enough.

Yuki approached the door but did not touch it.

“Estiben.”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell which memories are yours?”

A long silence.

“Not all of them.”

Margarito watched him carefully.

“I might be able to help.”

Estiben looked at him.

Psychic contact.

The disagreement that had followed them since they met.

Evidence versus perception.

Estiben’s first instinct was visible.

No.

Then he looked at the tower.

“Can you tell me which memories are real?”

Margarito shook his head.

“No.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can help you recognize which thoughts are arriving from outside your normal pattern.”

“That isn’t the same.”

“No.”

Estiben appreciated the distinction.

“What would you need?”

“Surface contact only.”

“Duration?”

“Ten seconds.”

“Stop immediately if I say stop.”

“Immediately.”

“No searching.”

“No searching.”

Estiben looked at Yuki.

Not for permission.

For witness.

Yuki understood.

“I’ll count.”

Estiben extended his paw.

Margarito touched it.

Yuki began.

“One.”

Margarito closed his eyes.

“Two.”

His breathing slowed.

“Three.”

Estiben stiffened.

“Four.”

Margarito whispered:

“Two childhoods.”

Estiben’s ears flattened.

“Five.”

“Two mothers.”

Estiben trembled.

“Six.”

“Two colonies.”

Yuki watched Margarito carefully.

“Seven.”

Margarito’s face tightened.

“One of them is being added now.”

Estiben’s eyes opened.

“Which?”

Margarito did not answer.

“Eight.”

“Which one?”

“I don't know.”

Estiben stared at him.

“Nine.”

Margarito opened his eyes.

“But neither of them owns you.”

“Ten.”

He released Estiben instantly.

The contact ended.

No hesitation.

No extra second.

Estiben looked down at his paw.

Margarito stepped back.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

Estiben looked at him.

“No.”

A long pause.

“Thank you for not pretending you could.”

Something changed between them.

Small.

But permanent.

Trust built not because Margarito had given him an answer.

Because he had refused to invent one.

The tower door opened.

No one touched it.

Beyond it waited a staircase.

Yuki entered first.

Estiben stopped her.

She looked back.

He shook his head.

“Pathfinder.”

It was not a challenge.

It was his job.

Yuki stepped aside.

Estiben entered.

Margarito followed.

Yuki went last.

The door closed behind them.

The staircase rose.

And rose.

And rose.

Yet Estiben’s Compass insisted they were descending.

Yuki checked her breathing.

Gravity felt normal.

Margarito touched the wall.

“We’re not moving through space.”

Estiben glanced back.

“History?”

“Maybe.”

They continued.

Windows appeared along the staircase.

Through the first, Yuki saw Talvyr as it existed now.

Through the second, Talvyr was ruins.

Through the third, Talvyr had never been built.

Through the fourth, an ocean covered the valley.

Through the fifth—

Yuki stopped.

Cove Island.

She saw the Asteria resting beneath a blue sky.

The crew walked across the landing field.

Kepi.

Briar.

Tokyo.

Pip.

Selene.

Margarito.

Estiben.

But Yuki was not among them.

She moved closer.

Margarito noticed.

“Don’t.”

She looked at him.

He nodded toward the window.

“We don’t know what it is.”

Yuki watched the scene.

Everyone looked happy.

That hurt more than she expected.

The Asteria launched.

Without her.

Cove remained.

Nobody died.

Nothing collapsed.

The world continued.

Yuki stepped away from the window.

Estiben had been watching her.

“What did you see?”

“A possibility.”

“Do you believe it?”

Yuki considered the question.

“I believe they could survive without me.”

Estiben nodded.

“That isn’t the same as believing you shouldn’t exist.”

Yuki looked at him.

He continued upward.

She followed.

They reached the summit.

The tower had no roof.

Above them stretched the false sky.

Stars floated impossibly close.

Some were no larger than lanterns.

Others seemed like entire galaxies trapped inside glass.

At the center of the chamber stood the figure.

A cat.

Tall.

Thin.

Covered in a dark silver cloak.

Its face remained hidden beneath a hood.

Estiben’s Compass stopped spinning.

Every point went dark.

Except the center.

The twelfth light.

The figure turned.

“Yuki.”

Yuki did not answer.

“Margarito.”

His ears flattened.

“Estiben.”

The Pathfinder raised his energy rifle.

“Who are you?”

The figure looked toward him.

“You already remember.”

Estiben’s grip tightened.

“I remember many things that did not happen.”

“Yes.”

The hooded figure sounded pleased.

“That is progress.”

Yuki stepped forward.

“Are you Nexaris?”

The figure became still.

Then laughed softly.

“No.”

Yuki did not lower her guard.

“What are you?”

“A survivor.”

“Of what?”

“Nexaris.”

That changed everything.

The figure lifted its paws and slowly removed the hood.

Estiben dropped his rifle.

The cat beneath it was old.

Very old.

Dark charcoal fur had faded almost completely to silver.

One ear was torn.

Across his chest hung an eleven-point Compass.

And his face—

was Estiben’s.

Older.

Scarred.

Exhausted.

Impossible.

Tokyo would have made a joke.

Briar would have demanded verification.

Kepi would have asked for evidence.

Pip would have written down the uncertainty.

But none of them were there.

Only Yuki.

Margarito.

And Estiben staring at a version of himself that should not exist.

The older cat spoke.

“My colony disappeared.”

Estiben could barely breathe.

“No.”

“I survived because I was away.”

“Stop.”

“I spent years writing down everything I remembered.”

Estiben raised his weapon again.

“Stop.”

The older Pathfinder did.

Yuki studied him.

“You could know those things from his memories.”

“Yes.”

“From Talvyr.”

“Yes.”

“From Nexaris.”

The old cat’s eyes hardened.

“Yes.”

Margarito stepped forward.

“What do you want?”

The old Estiben looked at him.

“To prevent the mistake we made.”

Yuki hated those words immediately.

“What mistake?”

The old Pathfinder looked at her.

“You restored us.”

Yuki went still.

“Restored what?”

“My history.”

The stars above them shifted.

The chamber disappeared.

They stood inside another reality.

Estiben’s colony surrounded them.

Alive.

Children ran between buildings.

Families filled the streets.

Ships descended beneath a violet sky.

Estiben stared.

His home.

Exactly as he remembered it.

Tears filled his eyes.

The older Estiben watched him.

“This is what you wanted.”

The younger Pathfinder could not speak.

Then the sky changed.

The colony faded.

Another civilization appeared in the same place.

Different buildings.

Different families.

Different children.

The old Estiben whispered:

“They existed because our history had been replaced.”

The second civilization disappeared.

The original colony returned.

Yuki understood.

Her stomach turned.

The old Estiben looked at her.

“When you restored us, you erased them.”

Yuki stared at the families vanishing around her.

“No.”

“You believed you were correcting reality.”

“No.”

“You believed the original history had greater legitimacy.”

“I wouldn't—”

“You did.”

The older Estiben looked at his younger self.

“And I asked her to.”

Estiben shut his eyes.

The old Pathfinder continued.

“I told her memory was proof.”

His voice broke.

“I told her we had been stolen.”

He looked around at the restored colony.

“We were.”

Then toward the vanished civilization.

“So were they.”

The illusion ended.

They returned to the tower.

Yuki’s eyes burned amber.

“You're showing us a future.”

“Not exactly.”

“A possibility.”

“Not exactly.”

Estiben looked at his older self.

“Then what?”

The answer came from behind them.

Not from the old Pathfinder.

From the stars.

A voice filled the tower.

Deep.

Layered.

Made from countless voices speaking almost together.

A HISTORY.

Margarito turned.

His fur rose.

The stars moved.

The twelfth light in Estiben’s Compass expanded.

Yuki reached for him.

“Estiben—”

Too late.

The light struck the floor.

A circle opened beneath them.

Not a Gate.

Something stranger.

Inside it Yuki saw worlds.

Thousands of them.

Some familiar.

Some impossible.

Some containing versions of the Star Warriors.

Some containing none.

The old Estiben backed away.

For the first time, he looked terrified.

“No.”

Yuki turned toward him.

“You brought us here.”

“No.”

The stars began going dark.

One by one.

“I brought you here to warn you.”

Margarito looked upward.

“Then who opened that?”

The older Pathfinder stared into the circle.

“Nexaris.”

The tower shook.

Across Talvyr, every bell rang simultaneously.

Below, Briar looked toward the tower as its uppermost section vanished from the skyline.

Not exploded.

Not collapsed.

Vanished.

Kepi stared at the empty sky.

“Where did it go?”

Pip’s notebook fell open.

A new sentence appeared.

THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A TOWER IN TALVYR.

Briar looked around.

Citizens screamed.

Not because the tower had disappeared.

Because they no longer understood why they were staring upward.

Ilyra frowned.

“What are we doing here?”

Briar felt something colder than fear.

“Pip.”

The mouse looked at him.

“Write this down.”

“What?”

Briar pointed toward the empty sky.

“There was a tower.”

Pip wrote.

The ink disappeared.

He wrote again.

It vanished again.

Kepi grabbed a knife.

He carved the words into the wooden table beside them.

THERE WAS A TOWER.

The wood repaired itself.

Kepi stepped back.

For once, he had no immediate solution.

Briar did.

He pulled his combat blade.

And carved three words into the metal of his own armor.

YUKI IS THERE.

The scratches remained.

Pip stared.

“Why didn't that change?”

Briar looked toward the empty sky.

“Because the armor came with us.”

Kepi understood.

“External reference.”

Briar nodded.

Then carved three more names.

MARGARITO.

ESTIBEN.

He handed the blade to Pip.

“Start writing on everything we brought.”

Pip grabbed it.

Kepi turned toward the Asteria.

“Tokyo.”

The communicator crackled.

Tokyo’s voice answered from the disconnected shuttle.

“Please tell me somebody else remembers the enormous tower that just stopped existing.”

Briar exhaled.

“Good.”

“That is not the response I expected.”

“Stay disconnected.”

“Gladly.”

“Do you remember Yuki?”

Silence.

Then:

“Of course I remember Yuki.”

“Margarito?”

“Yes.”

“Estiben?”

“Yes.”

Briar looked at Kepi.

Their disconnected systems were holding.

For now.

“Tokyo,” Briar said, “bring the shuttle.”

“Where?”

Briar looked toward the place where the tower had been.

“I don't know.”

Tokyo paused.

Then his voice became serious.

“That's inconvenient.”

Briar almost smiled.

“Find us anyway.”

Inside the vanished tower, Yuki looked into the circle of histories.

Nexaris had found them.

Not by attacking the city.

Not by destroying Talvyr.

By changing what Talvyr had always been.

The older Estiben seized his Compass.

“We have seconds.”

Yuki turned.

“To do what?”

“Remember.”

Estiben stared at his older self.

“Remember what?”

The old Pathfinder looked at him.

“Not your colony.”

The circle widened.

“Not Talvyr.”

The false stars began collapsing toward them.

“Remember yourselves.”

Margarito stepped beside Yuki.

Estiben beside Margarito.

Yuki looked at both of them.

The tower disappeared around their bodies.

Her armor remained.

Margarito remained.

Estiben remained.

For now.

Yuki spoke first.

“My name is Yuki.”

Margarito understood.

“My name is Margarito.”

Estiben stared into the changing histories.

Then said:

“My name is Estiben.”

The voice in the stars answered.

THOSE NAMES HAVE OTHER HISTORIES.

Yuki’s golden eyes narrowed.

“Then we'll choose them again.”

The false sky shattered.

And the Star Warriors fell into histories that had never happened.

END OF CHAPTER 10