by Ann Denton
Lowe took a deep breath and seemed to regain his composure. “Mala, it was a massacre. You were lucky to get out.”
She shook her head. “I can't.” She stumbled along the rocky bank and headed toward the water, away from Lowe, away from the raft. “Look what it's done to me: I'm not even myself!” She looked down at her long arms in disgust. “I'm a monster.”
“That's enough,” Lowe said gruffly. “I know this is a lot. I know that everything is different. But stop running away. You have a talent. What exactly it is is still a mystery, but it's amazing. You have this ability. Don't run from it; come learn how to use it.”
Mala heard his words, but chose to ignore them. She clambered clumsily across the rocks as Lowe called to her. She came to a large boulder that could serve as a diving board. “I have to go back,” she repeated to herself.
“Who'd recognize you?” Lowe yelled. But it was too late. Mala closed her eyes and dove into the frigid water.
She'd misjudged the water's depth; with her new height, it was far too shallow. Her forehead smacked against a rock on the river bottom. But that was nothing compared to the pain she felt the instant water touched her skin.
Instead of fire, this was ice: her limbs immediately felt frozen and stiff, as though the river were full of snow. The cold pricked her toes and her fingers and spread its way up through her limbs in a painful wave. And then came the numbness; it took over her body and her mind and set her adrift. She couldn't feel anything and no longer cared ...
Suddenly, the numbness retreated. She felt herself being lifted from the water. She was placed—none too gently—on Lowe's makeshift raft. The stumps of branches bit into her back. Her lungs ached and she drew a ragged breath, spewing out muddy river water. When she opened her eyes, she saw Lowe's face smiling cheerily down at her. She couldn't help but be annoyed by his expression, even though he’d saved her.
“Do near-death experiences always make you this happy?” she muttered, turning her head to the side as she choked up even more water. “Because, I have to say, it's creepy.”
His smile only widened. He didn't say anything, but reached out and grabbed a strand of her hair. He pulled it gently in front of her face.
She stared. Her knotted, gnarled, long brown curls were back. She sat up quickly and checked the rest of her body. Her arms and feet were back to their slender, tanned selves. Her right hand bore the scratch from the clock’s hour hand. She looked back at Lowe's beaming face, and despite herself, she laughed.
“All those years, it seems like you unconsciously knew your own antidote,” he stated.
A rush of relief filled her. And a sudden rush of unexplained joy. She was Mala again. Dull brown, comfortable, cowardly Mala. She rubbed her hands down her arms, feeling their length. She touched her face to make sure her nose was the same small triangle she remembered. She looked at the sky and at Lowe's face and everything seemed much brighter than normal. She had never felt so ... euphoric.
“Quite the high, isn't it?” Lowe asked, pushing her hair gently back behind her shoulders.
“What?” she looked at him. His face seemed rosier than normal. The sun surrounded him with a halo of light.
“The rush when you return to yourself. Feels good, right?”
She giggled. “I don't know what it is, but it’s amazing!”
He smiled at her. “I'm glad to have you back. This Mala happens to be my favorite.”
She laughed again, giddiness rushing through her system. “That's only because this Mala isn't tall enough to squash you flat like a bug.” She had trouble keeping herself upright. She was swooning from the ecstatic rush.
“That's true,” Lowe laughed, as he put his arms around her to prevent her from falling. His touch sent an electric current through Mala's insides. She felt as if her entire chest was abuzz with energy. His eyes were flashing, glinting from sunlight—and something more. He leaned closer to her so their foreheads touched. “But you know what?” he whispered.
“What?” she tried to focus on his face, but found it difficult.
“I think I like this Mala's eyes more, and her nose is cuter.” He nuzzled her nose with his own. “And her lips,” he brought up a finger and traced the outline, pulling his head away just slightly so he could watch his finger swoop along the soft red curve. “Mala?” he breathed.
“What?”
“Can I test you?”
His words threw her, and her buzz fizzled slightly. “What?” she asked, for a third time. The confusion must have shown on her face. He pulled back a few more centimeters and stared solemnly into her eyes.
“To determine if you're Kreis, they test you with a kiss. I wasn't joking earlier, though I was giving you a hard time. Typically, if you're Kreis, you'll transform ... back to the moment you had your first kiss.” He traced her lips once more, and though this still sent a thrill through her, an edge of fear eroded her high.
“But what if ...” Mala began, but she couldn't bring herself to finish. Her cheeks reddened.
“What if you've never been kissed?”
She nodded, nervously avoiding his eyes. But the corners of his mouth twitched up.
“I was hoping that was the case, Misanthrope.” She looked back up, a little bewildered. He smiled. “Mala, there’s an easy test to fix that.” He put his hands behind her neck and slowly untied her necklace. “I’ll kiss you, and while I kiss you I’ll prick your finger with this.” He held up a hook. “If you’re Kreis, then when you transform afterward, the cut will be healed. Restored to the first moment of our kiss.”
“But ...” she interjected and he cut her off with a simple finger to her lips.
“If I'm your first kiss, then whenever they test you at the Center—anytime in the future any Kreis kisses you for the first time—you'll be brought back to this moment,” he stroked a gentle path along her jaw. “You'll remember my kiss forever.” There was a warmth in his voice that liquefied her kneecaps.
Mala was almost swept up in the moment, but another fear—a deeper fear—held her back.
“What if ... I'm not really Kreis?” she whispered, in a voice so small she wasn't sure that any sound even came out.
“Then it will still be the best damn kiss you've ever had.” And with that, Lowe stopped asking, and his lips crushed hers.
The euphoria of the transformation changed instantly into a sensation Mala had never known. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird and she felt breathless and light. Joy swept through her and made her dizzy. She didn’t even feel the hook prick her fingertip. She just felt an electric surge that ran all the way to her toes. Lowe's hand stroked the back of her hair and he gave a little sigh.
“Wow,” he said, pulling back and opening his eyes.
“Yeah,” she muttered, her cheeks flushed. She glanced up at him. And a terrible pain took hold.
Chapter Ten
“What the hell just happened?” Mala asked. Lowe had fallen backwards into the shallows.
“I have no idea.” His voice came out as a rusty squeak. He stared at Mala with a pained expression, almost as if he were looking at the sun. Then he shifted his gaze to his own arms, which had become narrow and stick-thin. His grey shirt hung loose and baggy and his pant legs dragged in the mud; he'd shrunk quite a bit. His black hair was buzzed short, and he was long-limbed, as young teen boys often are.
“Why do you look like you're fourteen?”
Lowe didn't respond. He rubbed a nervous hand across a rough patch of acne coating his cheeks. He seemed dumbstruck.
“How come you changed?” Mala demanded. Her voice came out a gravelly purr and she tried to clear her throat to get rid of the scratch, but this body kept her voice low. She wasn't as shocked this time by melting; she'd been expecting something like this from what Lowe had told her about the test. But to watch him transform from the brawny sarcastic man she was used to into a gawky teen was very disconcerting. “Does the test always work like that? Where both people change?”
“No.” He stared down at his hands, and out at the muddy currents of the river.
Mala waited. And her heart filled with longing and regret. The kiss had started so magically. She had still been buzzed on the high of reversing her transformation, and that had combined with the passion of Lowe’s kiss. I never imagined anything could feel that intense. But then she had opened her eyes and met his. She'd seen a lot of emotions living in the northern guard. But she'd never seen someone that shade of horrified. He still couldn't look directly at her.
Eventually, Lowe broke the silence. “I think we need to get to the Center as soon as possible. I don't know enough ... I don't know what happened.” He stayed quiet for a minute, fingers tracing a pattern in the water. “I think it would be best if we melt back.” He stood and started to walk up the shore to the cover of the trees. He didn't look at her.
Mala sat aghast, hurt and frustrated. “Wait!” she turned and yelled after him. He stopped but didn't turn back. “What do I look like?”
“I need to melt ... it’ll easier for me to do it in private.” Lowe's non-answer only made Mala more uneasy. She touched her fingers to her face. The skin felt smooth. No scars. No missing nose. Her body looked normal. I'm not disfigured. But clearly something about this girl freaks Lowe out. Mala watched his retreating form. And the realization came to her as she slipped back into the water. He knows this girl. He knows who I look like. Blut thought I looked like his mom ... Mala's stomach dropped. She slid as far under the shallows as she could. She clasped her knees and tried to hold herself still against the current. But her stomach churned like the waves. I turned into his mom.
They didn't speak all afternoon. Mala didn't know what to say. How to bring up the awkward, awful thing that had ruined the perfect mood. Ruined the perfect kiss. I was better off as a misanthrope, she thought as she cooked fish for dinner.
She watched Lowe check the raft one last time before sunset. Mala sighed. Thinking about him had been her escape. And now the chasm inside her threatened to engulf her. Tears rushed down her face as she dutifully covered her neck in ashes. Even the thought that her mother was gone hurt too much. Her heart howled and clawed at her ribs. It hurt to breathe. She pulled at her hair just to relieve the tension in her throbbing chest. It took everything she had to keep from screaming. But finally, gradually, the pain ebbed a little.
She climbed aboard raft in silence. Lowe didn't comment on her grieving, and she was grateful. He poled them skillfully toward a tributary as fireflies and mosquitoes buzzed around them. Mala's head was heavy, and her heart was sore beyond aching. She counted her breaths, refusing to allow sleep or more emotion to cloud her thoughts. But as the night wore on and Lowe remained focused on their destination, she found she was nodding in the muggy air.
And suddenly the air around her was full of screams. Her mother danced and sang on the deck of a ship and a fountain of bullets poured from her mouth. Erinne reached her hands to her stomach and peeled away her dress and skin in a single layer and Mala could see her lungs move, her heart beating.
Then Mala was shaking, falling into the river. On the deck of her father’s ship she saw an Erlender with a knife who cackled and said, “I know, I know.” And there was her father tied up to the ship’s bow. Her throat clenched ...
Mala screamed again and again. Lowe shook her awake with difficulty. “Hey, Mala, it's okay. It's okay.”
I'm alone. They're gone. I'm alone. It was a minute before she realized Lowe's hands were still on her shoulders.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were gentle, and though the pain didn't leave her, it receded enough that she could speak.
“Sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” The dream fell away from her as she felt the warmth of his hands on her shoulders. She didn't need to count to make the nightmare recede. That's a first.
“Was it Blut?” he asked softly, tucking her hair back.
“What? No.” She shook her head to clear it. “I would have thought it would be. But it wasn't.” She couldn't talk about what it was. The pain crouched, ready to spring forward and devour her.
Lowe let go of her. “Hey, don't worry. It's a good thing. Another sign you're probably Kreis.”
“What do you mean?” His train of thought distracted her and she clutched at it.
His blue eyes gazed into the darkness for a moment before he said, “Most Kreis don't feel regret.” He stood abruptly and started poling the raft forward once more. “How about we play a game? It will help me stay awake and we've got awhile to go.”
“Where are we going?”
“The Center.”
“Right. Where is it?” she started to ask, but cut herself off. “Oh. Secret. Right. Never mind.”
Lowe yawned loudly. “What about that game?” he asked again.
“What kind of game can you play in the dark?” she demanded.
“Oh,” he chuckled. “You really didn't mean to ask that question.” There was a sultry edge to his tone that brought her back to that afternoon, to their kiss. It made Mala nervous and she shifted self-consciously on the raft. They hadn't spoken about the kiss. Mala didn't really know what to say.
“How about the question game?” Lowe said. “Ever played?”
Mala would have chosen just about any distraction over falling back asleep. Over becoming vulnerable to the pain again. She knew the game, even if she'd only ever watched from the trees as it was played by the other kids below.
“If I haven't, are you going to teach me the rules?” she shot back. They passed under the shadow of a hill, which blocked the moon. She could just make out the grey shadow of his cheek as he smiled in the starlight.
“How old are you, Mala?”
“Would it matter to you if I was seventeen?” she arched an eyebrow.
He waited for a moment before responding. “Would I be a bad person if I said no?” he said.
“If I'm Kreis, isn't the rule that I get to be any age I want to be?” she said.
“Time-out. That's not really a question,” he said. “That's really a statement with an isn't tossed in. And you know the consequence: losers have to take something off.”
“It is too a question! I'm asking if that's the rule,” Mala exclaimed. “And you never said this was going to be a stripping game!” Her voice trembled high and tense, but a little ribbon of excitement threaded through her.
“You never gave me a chance to explain. You started off with a question ... so I assumed you knew the rules.”
Mala thought quickly as they slid past the hill and back into the moonlit night. Lowe’s expectant grin made her bite her lip. Then she grudgingly unhooked her necklace and tossed it at his feet. “There. Ready to lose?” ‘Cause you will, she thought as she gritted her teeth, determined.
“Did you dream about me?”
“Do you think that's why I woke up screaming?”
“Nah, you would have been screaming my name.” With a swoop, Lowe took off his shirt, tossing the tattered thing at her feet. Mala stared at his slim torso and abs, a lump forming in her throat. She caught him grinning at her with the same mischievous look he'd had earlier when he'd talked about games in the dark. “Like what you see?” he asked.
She was too tongue-tied to respond. Lowe grinned. His tactic seemed to be working. He held up one hand and started folding down fingers, counting down to when Mala would have to take off her dress. Cheater! Her mind screamed at her, but it took a few seconds for Mala's mouth to catch up. He was folding down the last finger when she stuttered out a question. “Who—Who did I look like after we kissed?”
Instantly, Lowe's face collapsed. He stared off into the darkness.
Idiot Mala. He was stripping for you and you had to ruin it. You're a ruiner. Ruiner. Self-destructive—
“Why do you want to know?” Lowe's question was so quiet Mala could barely hear it over her internal rant.
“What?”
“Why do you want to know?” There was an edge to his voice. Mala wasn't sur
e what it was. She wasn't sure if he was still playing the game or not. She sat for a minute, trying to figure out the best way to approach him. But when he held up his fingers again, she gave a sigh of relief. So he's not mad at me.
“Did you know her?” Mala queried.
“Do we really know anyone?” he responded.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Why are you so insistent?” Lowe raised his eyebrows innocently, but something in his tone tipped Mala off. She was right.
“Was it ... your mom?”
Lowe's jaw dropped. “Why the hell would you think that?”
Mala felt her insides relax. Not his mom. Oh, thank God. I did not turn into his mom. “Was she important to you?”
It was a minute before Lowe responded, but Mala didn't count down with her fingers. She was far too eager to hear his response.
“How important is your first love?”
“No!” Mala gasped. His first love. Shock ran through her. But he seemed so disgusted ... could it have been hurt? She recalled his fourteen-year old-face as he'd backed away from her. I turned into the girl who broke his heart.
She glanced up at Lowe, apology in her eyes, and was instantly confused. Why is he grinning? It took a minute. She cringed as she realized what had happened: she had to lose the dress.
“You are a cheater!” she jumped up and nearly made the raft capsize. Lowe carefully steadied it.
“Manipulator—I’ll grant you that—but not a cheater. And ... a winner.” He chuckled and waggled his eyebrows.
“Was any of that even true?”
He laughed. “I'm trying to get you naked and you want to talk about other girls?”
He gestured at the dress. Mala's fingers trembled as she fumbled for the zipper. It was caught on some fabric. She couldn't get it down. You swim in your underwear all the time, idiot. This is no big deal. But then his hands were on her, and it was a big deal.
“If you want it off, you're gonna have to do it yourself.” She tried to sound sarcastic, but she only sounded scared.