I’m so tired.
Pushing myself up again is more difficult than scaling the Cathedral of Learning on Pitt campus. Right leg, left leg. My body is running again.
In. Out. Concentrate on your breathing. I let Buen’s words roll around my mind, calm and steady. I wish he were here—he would have loved this moment.
Wynn gone.
Saving someone instead of murdering someone.
I wish I could believe he was still alive. Was his sacrifice worth it all? Lydia’s smart planning and hemazury carried the day in the end, but I tried to help, tried to make the most of Buen’s sacrifice. Sending Wynn flying through a portal was a major victory.
Buen stood up to Wynn and was killed so I could be there.
I hope my life is worth his sacrifice.
My steps slow as I reach the house. Given all the za’an Goluken had, I’m sure I’ll find lots of children’s blankets inside.
* * *
Lydia walks out of the cave and collapses on a tree next to Somrusee and me. Her hair sticks to her face, and her eyes are dull. Tired. Dynd sits awkwardly across from us, shifting every few seconds. He’s still unsure how to balance his body without legs.
“Are the babies alive?” I ask Lydia.
The corners of Lydia’s mouth turn up, but the smile doesn’t make it to her nose, much less her eyes. “I saved Mara’s life at least ten times tonight, and that’s not counting how many times I saved those little boys. I’m never going to be a doctor, even if I know more about the human body than most of them.”
I try to laugh but croak like a frog instead. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve seen any frogs in this world. If we ever make a permanent portal, we should definitely bring some. Frogs and lizards. They could really add some dimension here.
“You look as tired as I feel,” I say. “Maybe even more, which I didn’t think was possible until I saw you come out of that cave. I hope most doctors don’t work when they’re this tired.”
“What are you two talking about?” Somrusee asks. “That word, doctor, must have a different meaning because I don’t understand.”
“Home,” I say. “We’re talking about home. At home we have people who study humans and disease and spend their lives helping people heal.”
It’s pretty cool our society has doctors. It’s a trait of high society—the dedication of resources to long-term survival.
Somrusee doesn’t look impressed with the thought, though. She stares at me, surprise and hurt written all over her face.
“What did I say?”
“This is your home,” she says quietly. Her hand brushes across the top of mine, returns to her lap, and stays there.
I always forget the significance of the word “home” in this language. I smile weakly, unsure of what to say. I’m here now, but I’m not sure I want to call this world home. I didn’t want to go home with Wynn, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stay here forever. Somrusee continues to watch me, and I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. Is she expecting something from me? Why did she touch my hand?
“We defeated Wynn,” Lydia says wearily. “We’ve given you your world back. Karl has a life back home, a sister, a dad. I made him come here—I’ve got to get him back.”
“You can’t go back home yet. We’re not done.” Dynd shifts awkwardly, kind of like a sick octopus. Finally, he seems to get comfortable resting his body on his side. I wish I knew how to help him.
“Not done? Wynn’s dead.” Lydia leans forward and puts her head in her hands, like she’s about to pass out. If I were Dynd, I would stop talking now. But I’m not Dynd and he keeps talking.
“There’s the legend.”
“Legend?” Lydia groans. “Another one? Didn’t we already deal with a pretty important legend? You know, about the blue princess and all that?”
“This one is much older,” Dynd says. “Do you know it Somrusee?”
“Yes, I do,” Somrusee says. “Azureans and Sapphiri must come together to stop tyranny. It’s a saying people have quoted for centuries. It’s been our hope for generations. No one has ever believed the Azureans were fit to rule, but no one could stop them. And so, we put our hope into the Sapphiri until Wynn killed them all. And then Karu showed up.”
“Somrusee is right. Azureans and Sapphiri will come together and stop tyranny,” Dynd says. “But the way I understood it, was that the world depended on the actual uniting of an Azurean with a Sapphiri. To set things right, the way they were in the beginning, whatever that means.”
Somrusee’s grip on my hand tightens. “I don’t think that’s right,” she says. I didn’t realize she had taken my hand again. Sheesh. I must be tired.
“Sounds like no one is quite sure what the legend is.” Lydia sighs. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the tree.
But legends rarely come from nowhere. And, it sounds familiar, as if I’ve heard something similar to it before. I’m too tired to remember where.
“Legend aside, if you leave, what will happen to Sattah?” Somrusee asks. “All those millions of people...”
Lydia pulls her legs into her chest and hugs them. Huge tears roll down her cheeks and she closes her eyes.
I let my eyes close, too. I see my home in Arizona, the large palm tree in the front yard and the nearly-collapsed carport to the right of the house. I picture myself walking up to the door, greeting Dad, and hugging Pearl. Maybe she’s finished college now, teaching at my old high school.
Then, in my vision, Buen steps out from the shadows behind the carport. He holds his sword high in the air, and it’s stained with blood.
My eyes snap open, and I look around at my silent companions. It’s only been a few seconds. Somrusee’s hand is still wrapped around mine. No. I can’t go back. Not today. My life will never be the same, neither here nor there. But, I can’t turn my back on these people yet. Not until I’ve done more to make up for the monster I was in Sattah.
“Lydia, don’t send me home yet,” I whisper. “I’m not done here.”
She doesn’t move. Maybe she’s fallen asleep. Maybe she’s drowned in her anxiety about fighting Wynn and killing members of his army. I want to reassure her, to tell her how amazing it is that she saved those babies tonight. She’s what this world needs, even if they don’t need me. But, I don’t say it, not with Somrusee’s hand holding mine. I lean back against the tree and let out a long, slow breath.
I feel Somrusee’s eyes on me. I don’t meet her gaze.
“What about your work?” Lydia says suddenly, and she leans over so that our bare arms touch. Her touch is soft, comforting, and extremely distracting from Somrusee’s hand, which grips tighter around mine. She may squeeze it off soon. Lydia touches me so she can know what I’m feeling with hemazury, but that doesn’t stop the electricity from running up and down my arm.
My work. Right. “I’m not sure I have work to go back to, Lydia. Right before we came here, I ended up with false data, and it was all set up so it looked like I was the one who fabricated it. I would have gone to jail or been kicked out of my program if I hadn’t come here.”
“Seriously? Karl, your home is in the United States. Stuff like that doesn’t happen.”
That word again. Somrusee flinches next to me. If she holds my hand much tighter, I’m going to have to give it to Lydia to mend broken bones.
“I really don’t know if it’s safe for me there.”
“You want to stay? So you don’t get in trouble at home?” Lydia asks skeptically.
“No.”
Lydia raises her eyebrows, but she doesn’t open her eyes.
I look at Somrusee and then at Dynd. I think of Mara back in the cave with her three sleeping children. “I want to stay because Dynd is right. If we don’t stay, everything we’ve worked for will be lost. I want to fight for these people. Fight for you. Fight with you. Finish what we started.” And clean my hands of the blood of these people.
Lydia is quiet for a while. “Okay,” she says. Ano
ther pause. “And Somrusee thinks we need to go to Sattah.”
“I do, too,” I say. “The blue princess needs to be in Sattah. There are millions of people there, and I bet some believe the Princess Ria will return.” And I need to be there, too. To look for Buen.
But aside from looking for Buen, I don’t know what we will do when we get there. There are only five of us. Is it true that some people don’t think Azureans are fit to rule?
“What are you going to do, Dynd?” Lydia asks.
“I’ll stay here with Mara. I can’t travel, and neither can she.”
Lydia smiles. And this one reaches her eyes.
* * *
After sleeping a few hours, we leave Dynd and Mara at Goluken’s house and start down the trail towards Sattah.
Sattah. I’m going back. To take control, and to do some good. Somrusee is on my right, Lydia is on my left. None of us talk. We’re all still tired, but we’re going to do this.
Just a few minutes down the trail, I hear a crack in the bushes. I look around, but don’t see anything. I decide it isn’t anything more than a neuronal misfire from my exhausted brain until I hear it again a few steps later.
“Did you hear that?”
Somrusee nods, and her fingers reach inside of her tunic to feel for knives. “We’re being followed,” she whispers.
I have a few knives, and my sword, but that won’t be enough if we’re ambushed. Without trying to appear off course, I move to the side of the trail and pick up a large stick as if I mean to use it for walking.
The façade doesn’t fool our pursuers. Leaves crack behind us, and I whirl around. Instinct saves my life as I manage to catch the knife with my stick instead of my head.
Buen, you just saved my life. Again. Too bad you’re not here, or I’d thank you for all the hours you spent throwing knives at me.
The knife is the first of many. Somrusee hits the dirt behind me, and Lydia scrambles to the side of the road, leaving me the only one standing.
I’m too busy with my stick to use any of my knives to return fire. Flying knives lodge into the staff and scatter around me. Our attackers move quickly, screaming and throwing with strength and accuracy. I twirl the stick, letting it knock the knives out of their paths. Many of the knives sink deep into the wood instead of my flesh. My eyes are open, my heart racing as I concentrate; the glitter of flying metal is the only thing I see.
The attackers are getting closer, and the stick starts to crack. I take a step backward, but I don’t take my eyes off the road. Just another hit or two, and my stick will split in half.
And then the shower stops. The men are out of knives and out of the bushes. Eight men run towards us with swords and shields raised.
In an instant, the women are up and standing next to me. They’re dirty and scraped, but not injured. Of course, Lydia could have been hit a thousand times and healed herself, and I would never know.
“Who are you?” I yell at the approaching men. “What do you want with us?”
“You’re the Man of Wynn they call Karu.” The largest man slows down and waves to his men so that they surround us. He has a mouth full of missing teeth and eyes full of contempt. “A reward is set for your head.”
“Wynn is dead,” I say.
“Ha! He was never the one who set the price. It was Arujan.”
Arujan.
The man laughs, and he spits into the dirt by my feet.
“You think eight men is enough to defeat us?” I pull my shoulders back like Buen taught me and step forward like I don’t fear anything in the world. Buen taught me how to talk, how to fight, how to stare people down. I wish he was standing next to me. “We defeated Wynn yesterday.”
“You’re full of stories, aren’t you?” The man laughs. “You and two girls are no match for us. Enough talk. Kill him first.”
The man doesn’t move, but the other seven men do. I drop my stick and withdraw my sword. Four men focus on me. They’re clumsy as they draw their swords. Wynn never liked swords—he didn’t want to give his men any advantage in a fight against him. Still, untrained as they are, these men are angry and have numbers on their side.
The first man comes at me with his sword at an awkward angle. I knock it out of his hand easily. It slides to Somrusee, who dodges a blow and grabs the sword in time to defend herself.
Another guard is on top of me. He holds his sword like a club, with both hands. His eyes are scared. Use your attacker’s aggressiveness against him. I jump at him, and he backs up so quickly that he trips and falls into the leader, knocking him over.
Without thinking, I drive my sword through the pair of them. Three immobilized.
And more blood on my hands.
I spin back to the action. But, there isn’t any more action. Lydia has taken care of the rest of the men. Some lie on the ground with broken legs and arms, others have broken necks. It’s over. The three of us are fine, and our attackers are dead.
And I’ve killed people. Again.
“That was scary,” I say to no one in particular.
Lydia looks at me briefly, and then her eyes fall back to the men. Some of them are still alive. Two of the men on the ground moan. Lydia walks up to one that looks particularly young. He’s good looking, too. Lydia sits next to him and pushes the hair out of his face.
“What is your name, soldier?”
“Quint.” The man’s face contorts with pain. I wonder what Lydia did to him—I can’t see any injuries.
“Where are you from?” Lydia demands.
“Sattah.”
“Born and raised?”
He laughs, which sounds more like another moan. “Is anyone from Sattah born and raised there?”
I don’t laugh. “I’ve met a few.” I try not to think about how many of born-and-raised Sattah people died shortly after I met them. “The long-timers tend to live in different sections of the city, though.”
“I was born up north. Sent south when I signed up for the guard.”
“You were parentless then?” I ask. Many orphans join the guard because they don’t have an inheritance. Land is turned over to the state if there isn’t an heir old enough to claim it upon death.
“Flu breakout. Lots of people died. I had to do something to support myself.”
Many men joined Wynn’s guard because of poverty. They would get fed, and they would acquire skills and a place in society. As long as they stayed alive. Every soldier’s time would come eventually. Wynn would decide that they had turned into a traitor and would send them into the toughest battles to be killed. No guard lasted longer than a decade under Wynn.
“You don’t have to justify yourself to us,” Lydia says. “Are you going to kill us when our back is turned, or are you going to help us fight against Wynn’s society?”
My gaze rockets from the injured soldier to Lydia, who is looking down at him. I gape at her in surprise. She thinks we can trust this guy.
“Don’t listen to them,” another attacker says in a raspy voice. “They’ll kill you. Arujan wouldn’t have set such a big reward if this man wasn’t dangerous.”
My thoughts exactly. “He’s right. We probably shouldn’t trust anyone right now.”
Lydia shakes her head. “If we can’t find friends, we fight a battle we can’t win. Quint lost everything because of Wynn. If he’s willing to fight with us, we need him.”
“I’ll go with you,” Quint says. “If you defeated Wynn, I’ll help you fight.”
“I don’t trust him either,” Somrusee says.
“Please,” Quint says. “I’m willing to help. I can help—I joined the guard to fight Wynn from the inside. I’m willing to help anyone who’s willing to fight against Wynn. Arujan didn’t tell us you were fighting against Wynn’s society. He told us that you were here to replace Wynn. As long as you are working for the people, I will work with you.”
The other man growls. “You’re a traitor,” he says. “Good for nothing scum. I should have known.”
> “Wynn wasn’t so great, you know. If he is dead, we are better off without him.” Quint says.
“Traitor!!”
Lydia throws something at the man and he stops talking.
“Thanks Lydia,” I say.
“Princess Ria,” Somrusee corrects. “If we’re going to win this war, we need to call the princess by the name she was born with.”
I look at Lydia and she blushes. “Somrusee is right,” she says. “Please call me Princess Ria.”
And then Quint stands up. I guess we trust him.
3 Alarms
Bob
An alarm buzzes—the girl just opened her apartment door. I throw my phone on the couch and pull out my binoculars. They focus just as she steps out of her apartment and pulls keys out of her purse. She locks both deadbolts, each with a different key. Talk about paranoid. I’m going to have to get a copy of both keys. Not that I can’t do it, it’s just harder that way. But, I’m in the right place. There’s no mistaking the family resemblance—this is Karl’s sister Pearl.
Though in contrast to Karl, she’s way good looking.
I didn’t expect this. Karl was such a slob. His apartment, his body, his office; everything in his life was a disaster. Grease in his beard and hair, greasy wrappers in the garbage can, grease under his chubby fingernails as he typed on his keyboard. I had to shower every time I touched his stuff.
Fortunately, that wasn’t too often. He didn’t move around much, and I could watch him through the bug I planted in his office. He stayed in plain sight at least twelve hours a day. Talk about lazy.
I had hoped to never see anyone that looked even remotely like him ever again.
Until today. I’m changing my tune now. His sister isn’t just good looking, she’s really pretty. Hot. Sizzling. Slender waist highlighted by a pin-stripe skirt, gorgeous legs worth showing off every day in the heat of Arizona. And I mean every day. It’s a good thing this complex has a swimming pool. I hope she uses it.
My life has spun a one-eighty. Karl was fat; Pearl is slender. He was a slob; she looks like a perfectionist.
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