Lest Our Passage Be Forgotten & Other Stories

by Bradley P. Beaulieu

  “Queen has touch you since desert?”

  Kallie shook her head and lied. “No.”

  “I think she do.”

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  Nilawi stared, as if trying to read Kallie’s mind, then she spun on her heel and paced back into the tunnel. Kallie coughed and followed, her nerves beginning to fray.

  She pulled up short when they reached a cave ten times the size of the altar room they’d just left. The walls and ceiling were alive with beetles, skittering, flying, buzzing. In the center sat the dejda queen, resting on a bed of sand. Her ribbed carapace was deep red, like blood-soaked feathers on the wing of a raven. Her massive head lolled about as if she were blind and had no choice but to smell the intruders or feel them with her possessed antennae. The stinger between the mandibles thrust forward like a probing tongue, and her front legs, which seemed ineffectual at first, clawed at the sand and rock toward Kallie. Her wing casings lifted, and she emitted a rumble that sounded like the call of a diseased goat.

  Kallie stepped back without meaning to and wrestled with her rising fear, but it soon began to ebb, because the more the queen struggled to reach her, the clearer it was that she could not move from her bed. She’d probably been there for years, Kallie realized, perhaps since the moment of her birth.

  Most of the beetles around the queen were small—the workers, perhaps, or drones—but there were also several of the larger warriors, a handful of which flew and landed near Kallie.

  “No turn,” Nilawi said. “No run.”

  Kallie nearly disobeyed, but she stood rooted as a small coughing fit overtook her. The queen finally stopped her scrambling and turned her great head to Nilawi. Nilawi’s eyes were closed and her hands were hanging at her side, palms facing the queen.

  Kallie was struck momentarily by vertigo, but then, as she had in the desert, her awareness expanded. She felt the mass of the gorge through hundreds of rudimentary nerves, felt the air run through it like cold blood through rigid veins, felt the teeming hosts of dejda toiling under the will of the Ohokwa.

  “You feel?” Nilawi said.

  Kallie knew she should lie. She should tell Nilawi she felt nothing, for surely once Nilawi’s fears were confirmed she would end Kallie’s life. But Kallie had already shown it on her face. Nilawi knew; all she lacked were the details.

  “I feel ... something.”

  “Speak it.”

  Kallie shrugged. “It’s ... wide and deep,” she said simply, hoping to remain as vague as possible.

  Nilawi pointed to the warrior beetles. “You make them come?”

  Kallie had no idea if she could or not, but she wasn’t about to try. If she succeeded, Nilawi would feel threatened, and if she failed... She didn’t want to think about that. She shook her head and stepped backward. The dejda skittered after her, and the contact that had been so tenuous vanished.

  Nilawi imposed herself between Kallie and the dejda. The beetles stopped and backed away after a rebellious pause. When Nilawi turned back to Kallie, her face was sad and thoughtful. She glanced at the entrance to the cavern and stepped closer.

  “Queen dies,” she said, motioning to the monstrous, chittering insect a few paces away. “When she do, she pick someone. Someone to become sister to her daughter.” Nilawi pointed to the far end of the cavern. “Twin. You see?”

  Kallie had been too shocked to notice, but a mottled red cocoon the size of a curled up collie rested in a bed of sand at the far end of the cavern. As she watched, a shudder undulated down the length of it, sending a chill galloping along Kallie’s spine.

  Nilawi paced the width of the cavern, the warrior beetles opening their wing cases each time she passed by. The more she paced, the more agitated she seemed to become. “She choose,” Nilawi said as she stopped and faced Kallie, her expression an accusation. “She choose you, milk-faced tahone.”

  Kallie turned to run. Nilawi’s low whistle cut over the drone of the insects. Kallie fled toward the altar room. Already she heard the warrior beetles take flight. The first landed on her back and stung her twice near the kidney. The second stung her in the neck. Two more bit into her rump and thigh. She screamed, trying to rid herself of them, but a moment later, she collapsed. A pain, dull at first, built and rose to a fever pitch as she writhed on the ground.

  No more stings came, and a moment later, Kallie realized why. Nilawi stood above her, a dejda resting on her outstretched wrist.

  “Now she choose me, tahone. Nilawi Grey Heart. You understand? Tell ancestors Nilawi Grey Heart was one who slew you.”

  The beetles took flight at a final whistle from Nilawi, but another high and piercing sound broke through. The blood-colored beetles fell to the ground or flew into the wall or rolled into a ball. When they were all buzzing and chittering on the ground, the high whistling stopped. It was followed immediately by a cackle. A tattered shawl interrupted Kallie’s vision. Paheka placed herself between Kallie and Nilawi and spoke in Ohokwa to the beetles, which all backed away to the queen and beyond.

  Nilawi screamed at Paheka, but Paheka only pointed a crooked finger at Nilawi, and two warrior beetles launched themselves from her shoulders toward Nilawi.

  Nilawi ran.

  The pain or the poison became too much then, and blackness closed in.

  The third time I woke, I discovered a great yearning for life.

  Though I didn’t realize it at the time, this was the most important thing I had learned thus far.

  Kallie woke facing a wall slick with moisture, which for some reason—perhaps the closeness of the wall, perhaps the humidity—sent her spiraling downward into a horrid coughing fit. She cleared the sour sputum from her aching throat and tried to pull herself up, but try as she might, the throbbing pain in her neck and spine wouldn’t allow it. Her grunts echoed into the hidden distance as she tried again and again—she’d be damned if she’d just wait for whatever fate had in store for her. Every joint in her body felt like it had been seared. Eventually, though the pain didn’t lessen, she was able to control it better, and finally she managed a sitting position.

  She found herself in a natural cavern the size of her kitchen back home. The rock beneath her thrummed. The faint roar of the river could be heard in the distance. The wet, rounded features of the cavern reflected the pink light from the single crystal set on the ground near a passageway leading out.

  Footsteps approached, and Kallie scrambled for a makeshift weapon she could use to defend herself as Paheka limped into the room, her tattered horsehair shawl hanging around her shoulders like vines over a weathered tombstone. Three small dejda crawled along her arms and shoulders; another two or three wandered the folds of her decrepit clothing. Kallie wondered how she could have navigated the passageways, for she bore no crystal.

  Paheka crumpled into a cross-legged position and reached beneath the folds of her shawl. She produced a small earthenware bottle and tossed it into Kallie’s lap.

  “What’s this?” Kallie asked, shaking the bottle. Liquid sloshed within.

  “Drink,” Paheka snapped. “It help you cough.”

  Kallie pulled out the stick acting as a stopper and sniffed. She’d expected something foul, but it smelled ... sweet, and fragrant, like brightbonnets or milk thistle. “Is it kayeya?”

  Paheka chuckled while creating a bridge from one hand to another for a particularly mobile dejda. “No, tahone. Better than kayeya. Dejda honey, queen milk, what they feed to unborn.”

  Kallie frowned and set the bottle aside. She wasn’t about to drink something given to her by this crazy old woman, whether she claimed it was better than kayeya or not. “Where are we?”

  “You safe. That enough for now.”

  “Is Nilawi still after me?”

  “After? Trying kill you, you mean. Yes. She think you block her path to throne. She speak elders. Tell them Goheshdekana think you like noise, cannot choose twin.”

  Kallie sat back and tried to massage the sting along the meat of her calf.
Goheshdekana could be none other than the queen beetle Nilawi had shown her. Kallie had ... bonded to the queen in some way, but how could she, a tahone, do such a thing?

  “Does she have the right of it?” Kallie asked. “Am I interfering?”

  Paheka smacked her lips and took in Kallie as if she’d forgotten she was there. “From Nilawi eyes, yes. You do.”

  “What about from your eyes?”

  Paheka frowned and pinched her deep-set eyes as if she was hurting something terrible. Then her eyes snapped open and she fixed Kallie with a fierce glare. “Me think you free Paheka, free her to wander fields.”

  “Wander”—Kallie coughed—“wander fields?”

  Paheka said nothing in return, but in that moment their eyes connected deeply. Kallie felt Paheka’s presence, not just with her eyes and ears, but in her bones and in her blood. Paheka felt suddenly kindred, like a sister, and Kallie knew Paheka had been granted the same sort of senses Kallie had, only she’d had it for years, decades. Perhaps it was what had pushed her to the edge of madness.

  Paheka hugged her legs to her chest. She stared at her toes, like a little girl dreaming of the days when she would be grown up.

  “What did you mean,” Kallie said slowly, “when you first met me? You said I was conspiring.”

  Paheka considered for a moment. “Conspiring with queen.”

  “How could I do that?”

  “Queen need you. And you need queen.”

  “That don’t make sense.”

  Paheka continued to stare at her feet, but her hand reached out and scratched the stone absently. “Dejda, queen most, be trapped by Ohokwa. Queen need person from outside. Like you.”

  “But why?” Kallie said it a little too loud.

  Paheka blinked and regarded Kallie anew. A hurt look settled over her, and she stood and pointed to the nearly forgotten bottle. “Drink!” she said as she shambled toward the exit. She cackled, and at a wave from her hand, the cavern went dark.

  “No!” Kallie yelled. But the sounds of Paheka’s shambling grew softer and softer. Soon there was only silence, and the occasional drip of water in the distance.

  The walls closed in. Kallie’s muscles tightened. Her breath came faster and faster, until she was gasping. The only thing that helped was the thrum of the Chedahoa, but she knew that was only temporary. She had to figure out what Paheka had meant. She had to understand what Goheshdekana wanted, for only in that could she save herself.

  She forced herself to breathe slowly while playing Paheka’s words over and over in her mind.

  Dejda, queen most, be trapped by Ohokwa.

  In what way was the queen trapped? The Ohokwa surely saw to her every need. And even if they didn’t, why would the queen need an outsider? How would that free Paheka? The answer lay just out of reach, and the truth eluded her no matter how hard she tried.

  Kallie took the bottle with trembling hands and took a whiff. The chance to be free of her consumption begged her to drink it. But she didn’t trust Paheka as far as she could throw a newborn calf, so she set the bottle down on the cold rock and groped through the darkness, trying to follow the path Paheka had taken. She scrabbled at the rough cavern walls, stutter-stepping her way to a branch in the passageway as the sounds of dripping and the thrum of the river surrounded her. Her next step sent her sprawling, and something bit into her shin. She felt blood trickling down her leg, and as she stood, she began coughing again. It continued for minutes on end. Kallie spit out a massive amount of sputum and blood, more than ever before.

  Paheka’s words taunted her... It help you cough, she’d said.

  The chance that it might act as the tonic did and heal her consumption proved too much of a temptation. At the first sign of the fit easing up, Kallie rushed back to the cavern and waved her hands frantically over the uneven ground until she found the bottle. Without allowing herself time to think, she unstoppered it and drank the sweet, thick liquid. It coursed down her throat. A giddy sensation suffused her frame. She felt warm, like she did after a stiff drink, but her chest felt little different.

  Kallie shivered as wings rattled above her head. She shied away and shambled up the passage. Another dejda buzzed near the ground. She screamed and ducked as yet another whizzed by her ear.

  Only then did she realize she could feel them. The sense granted by the beetle queen was active again, and she could sense dozens upon dozens of warrior dejda around her. In fact, there were so many that they outlined the passageway ahead of her like cave moss shedding light to guide her way.

  She followed their trail. When there was a branch in the passage, the dejda occupied only one of them. A chanting echoed through the tunnels—the Ohokwa, surely, performing the equinox ceremony. Kallie soon sensed the cavern of the queen and her brood a few hundred paces up. The queen’s presence filled the entire space ahead, even beyond, as if she’d somehow grown much, much stronger.

  Kallie came upon the queen’s cavern. A dozen or so Ohokwa men and women, all naked except for loin cloths, danced around the massive queen. The men chanted in a rhythmic bass, the women in shrill counterpoint. Many Ohokwa watched the ceremony silently, Paheka and Wattoha and Iye among them.

  The dejda around Kallie were becoming more animated. A few devolved into a wing-shaking frenzy, but others buzzed with a low burning hatred.

  Kallie crept closer.

  Wattoha stepped forward and handed an earthenware mug to Nilawi, who rose to a kneeling position and raised the mug above her head, exposing her naked breasts and stomach to the chittering dejda queen.

  Kallie could sense the queen clearly now, could feel her—could it be?—emotions. Kallie didn’t understand how such a thing was possible, but the queen feared, she despaired, and more than anything, she hated. It was an all-encompassing anger Kallie had felt only once in her life: the moments after discovering her niece had been raped by the Branson boys. That had been a blind rage, a time at which she would gladly have killed.

  It had also been momentary.

  This, on the other hand, this raw emotion flooding the cavern, was constant, as if the queen were a landslide that had no choice but to unleash its furious energy until fully spent, which made the mystery of the queen perfectly, terrifyingly clear. In the queen’s mind, the dejda had been slaves for eons, generations beyond count. Their lives had been thrown away at the humans’ merest whims. They hadn’t been in control of their own destinies since the first Ohokwa woman had learned to bond with the first dejda queen. No matter that the Ohokwa had lent them a growing consciousness in the intervening years; it was a byproduct of their enslavement.

  But the queen’s nascent thirst for revenge had not been able to form fully until now. The Ohokwa minds had been too rigidly fixed on the dejda and had become too similar after so many years being bonded. The queen had needed a catalyst to break from the pattern that had been passed down through the generations.

  Kallie’s hands went cold...

  When Kallie had entered the desert, the queen had seized upon her as something new, something that might help her. Like a trickle of water that eventually destroys the dam, that initial contact had scratched away at the bonds that prevented the queen from reaching full consciousness. Kallie realized with a twist in her gut that she had just completed that transformation minutes ago when she’d drank the elixir. Now nothing stood between the queen and her dreams of vengeance.

  Nothing except Kallie.

  She couldn’t allow this to happen, no matter what the Ohokwa might have done to her. She couldn’t watch an entire village be murdered like dogs.

  Kallie crept forward, attempting to use her link to the queen to quell the anger. She allowed the emotion to travel from her like cool water spreading across a tiled floor.

  It was then that Nilawi brought the mug to her lips.

  “No!” Kallie shouted. She charged into the light.

  The room plunged into an eerie silence.

  Kallie raised her hands in a sign of peace. “Don
’t drink it.” The moment Nilawi drank the liquid, another bond to the queen would be created, and when that happened it would be too much for Kallie to control. The queen’s anger would bubble over like an unwatched pot.

  Nilawi pointed to Kallie and shouted commands in Ohokwa. Two of the nearly naked warriors advanced toward her.

  Using her bond in a new fashion, Kallie willed the dejda to protect her, an action not unlike pointing a finger. A dozen of the large beetles buzzed past her and landed on the warriors. The Ohokwa screamed as the beetles bit deep into legs and arms and chests. Several more warriors stepped forward to help, but Nilawi and Wattoha both screamed at them to remain where they were. A moment later, Kallie ordered the attacking beetles to her side as the warriors crawled to safety.

  A taut silence filled the room.

  The dejda queen’s head shook and her mandibles clacked as she fought against the barrier Kallie’s emotions had enforced upon her.

  “What have you done?” Wattoha asked with great care.

  A cackle broke the silence. Paheka pointed a crooked finger at Kallie. She whistled, low and trilling, and the dejda flew into the tunnel. Kallie ordered the beetles back to her side. They didn’t return, but neither did they retreat further.

  For the moment, she and Paheka had reached a stalemate.

  “It’s the queen,” Kallie said quickly. “She’s going to destroy you.”

  Nilawi’s face turned red and angry. She stalked forward, but Wattoha stalled her. “What do you mean?” Wattoha asked.

  “Bah!” Paheka limped forward and she shouted to Nilawi in Ohokwa.

  Nilawi eyed the mug she’d left on the floor. She took a step toward it, but at a word from Wattoha the warriors stopped her. As Nilawi struggled, Wattoha turned to Kallie.

  “Tell me what you mean,” Wattoha said, her face rigid with a suppressed rage.

  “You know the queen has bonded with me for some reason.”

  Nilawi shouted in Ohokwa.

  “I can feel her hatred,” Kallie continued. “I can feel her hunger. She will not be controlled as her ancestors have for ages beyond count. She will destroy you”—Kallie pointed to the mug near Nilawi’s feet—“and all it will take is a sip of the queen’s milk.”