Seeker of Stars: A Novel by Susan Fish Page A

began to search my mind for dreams, wondering if that was what had awakened me. In an instant, the vision came flooding back, frightening me with its intensity.
    Bodies. Dead children clutched by grief-torn parents. Shaz’s body broken beside the road. I felt the menace of Herod’s wrath, and the thought came clearly into my mind that no matter what else happened, we must not return to Jerusalem. In an instant, I was ready to return home, convinced of the imminent danger. So certain was I that I shook Caspar awake and told him my dream in all its detail.
    Caspar was a strong believer in dreams, and he got up and began to pace the floor, considering seriously what I had dreamed. He reached into his bag for our ephemerides to understand whether an omen was foretold. He moved to the window to read in the moonlight and suddenly gasped. Fearing that my dream had already come true, I ran to look at what had arrested his attention. The ground below was shadowy but undisturbed. Caspar shook his head and pointed above.
    There in the east, the star we had followed now hung so low that we could almost touch it. As we watched, it proceeded across the houses of the town and then came to rest.
    “Our mission is not yet accomplished, Melchior,” Caspar said at last, when we saw that the star moved no more. “I swear by the gods—this star will show us the king of the Jews, and I will go this night to present him with our gifts.”
    I stared at him in wonder. “In the middle of the night? They will never open to us.”
    “They must!” said Caspar with urgency. “Your dream convinces me that we are in more danger the longer we stay here. Herod will find us, and we will see another side to him.”
    I agreed to join Caspar. As we dressed, Hasin awoke, insisted on accompanying us, and was ready in a moment. We climbed down the staircase from the roof, pointing out the low-hanging star to Hasin, who marveled at it. When we reached the stables, Caspar spoke to the servant who stood guard. We set off through the deserted streets, carrying a lumpy bag that had seen many years in the desert. I had no idea what we would say if we were caught, and I quickly said a prayer of sorts to whoever might hear me, that we might be safe.
    Indeed we were the only ones on the streets.
    We walked silently through the town, eyes directed upward and ears attuned for any sound. Finally we found the star’s resting place. Starlight poured on a small house, like cool, clear water over a bowl, richer and brighter than moonlight. I looked around. We had moved out of the prosperous part of town; we were near the market, in the merchant district. We stood in front of the light-drenched door and looked at one another. Caspar took a deep breath before knocking softly. My dream and the knowledge of Herod’s marauders caused my heart to quicken as the house remained silent and we stood exposed in the starlight in the street. After a while, I despaired that anyone would ever answer the door. Caspar dared to knock a second time, this time low and insistent. Noise stirred within, and a different anxiety gripped my heart: we had journeyed after a silent, moving star, following ancient prophecies, but this small house was different. We would face people who would either dismiss us as fools or perhaps—
    The door opened a crack, and a gruff voice spoke from the darkness.
    “Who’s there?”
    I exchanged glances with Caspar and Hasin before speaking. “We are travelers,” I said, hoping the simplest truth would gain us entry. It quickly became apparent that Hebrew hospitality was less universal at the third watch of the night.
    “What do you want?”
    “Direction,” I said, suddenly inspired. “And perhaps a cup of water.”
    The darkness grunted, and the crack widened. A man’s face emerged into the starlight. Squinting, he looked at us. “How many of you are there?”
    “Just three,” I responded.
    “May we come in?” Caspar asked. “I realize the hour is