Negative Film

by Leonard Petracci

  “We’ve had our fair share of such encounters. Do you really think they’re the first to try to take advantage of us? Certainly not. And certainly not the last. Memories erode quickly, and as soon as the stories of the last ones fade new ones come knocking.”

  “Wait, are you talking about the time that half the jungle died to fend off invaders?” asked Darian. “Can you still do that?”

  “I wouldn’t quite know. As they say, memories fade,” she said, letting her gaze fall on him for a few seconds. “But enough talk on that. Now let’s enjoy something timeless — coffee. And introductions are in order. I am Aetia, the matron of the Worldwalkers, and have been for many years.”

  Chapter 85

  “We call this strain the Far-Reacher,” said Aetia, passing each of us a cup. "It can only be found deep in the jungle, but even there, it is incredibly rare. Grown by Vibrants, it bitters too quickly and never reaches a full flavor— so to enjoy it, it must be found in the wild. But unlike normal coffee plants, these grow as a vine to the tops of the tallest trees, and there, they bear fruit. Only after they have passed through struggle, through darkness, and through dangerous journey do they reach the sunlight. The higher the flowering, the better the bean— the longer the vine, the farther that nutrients must travel, such that only the purest reach the top. Please drink, and drink slow— for it spent years to give you its best.”

  She gripped her cup then paused, her hand reaching across the table to a small jar provided by the servant.

  “And I almost forgot— sweetened by honey, of course.”

  In each of our cups, she dumped a spoonful of honey, except for Lucio’s, where she gave four.

  “Nearly forgot about your sweet tooth, darling. Never met someone who enjoyed a full four scoops,” she said after finishing, and Darian threw Lucio a dark look.

  “She’s the most powerful person this side of the jungle, did you just plant a mem—" he started, but Lola cut him off as Lucio hid a mischievous grin.

  “Before it gets cold— to kinship," she said, and we all took our first sip. Arial lowered her hand reluctantly, staring at the murky liquid with wonder, while I swished it inside my mouth. Even at Burner’s, the best coffee in the city, I’d passed on cups— but this was different. Fuller somehow, almost incomparable to coffee entirely— a boldness and acidity that seemed to race for first on my taste buds. Close enough to coffee to share the name, but an experience akin to switching from natural water to carbonated.

  “It’s wonderful,” said Arial after another long sip, her eyes closed as she savored it. "How exactly to you harvest it?”

  “It is very, very difficult. Disturbing the vines corrupts the nutrient flow, so Vibrants cannot bend them down to earth. It is possible to train monkeys to fetch them, but it is more difficult than you would think, as they too recognize the bean’s value and eat it themselves. Rather, the only reliable way is to send climbers up to search the trees, then to mark on maps where they are most successful. But even then, they must climb season after season, and there are entire years where the plants will not flower, and the climbing will be for naught.”

  “Why don’t you just send a Flyer up there?" Arial asked. "It would be a pretty simple task.”

  “A Flyer?” Aetia laughed, taking a long sip from the cup clutched between her two fragile hands. "Oh, it’s been what, three hundred years since the last one of those. I’d have to consult the books. My memory just isn’t what it used to be.”

  At the end of the table, Zeke shifted, his hand drifting down towards his pocket. His eyes were still bloodshot, and he still suffered from shakes, but it looked as if he were waking up from a slumber. Lola cast her grandmother a dark look, and she smiled as Darian leaned into the table, asking the question on all of our tongues.

  “Three hundred years?” he said, the words accented by Lucio crunching through a biscuit. "You remember three hundred years?”

  “Grandmother,” warned Lola, but Aetia waved her off.

  “Lola, I won’t be around much longer to guard this secret, and they’ve already learned more of us than any outsiders in the last century. But I don’t remember it well," she said. "That was a particularly slow time in our history. Five hundred stands out much more clear. You find that the years turn to weeks, and what do you remember from three hundred weeks ago? No, it’s the events that stand out.”

  “Is this you, then?” Zeke asked, removing the stone statue and placing it on the center of the table. Glancing between them, the resemblance was immediate— there was the mole, now faded but still present on her right cheek. The same stance, the same style of hair.

  “Oh, I never did like artist renditions of me," she said, brushing it aside. "I think that they captured my sister far better, but she left us long ago. Downside of the power, I suppose, watching the others fall away over time. One day, it will find me too, but not yet.”

  “Your power?" asked Zeke, his face falling. "Legends were that it originated somewhere else, a fountain or a tree.”

  “Darling, even as an experienced man, you believe quite the fairy tale. No, the fountain of youth shan’t be found here, unless you wish to call it my bathing water. And I assure you, none here want to drink that.”

  “So that means—" he started, but she cut him off.

  “That means that it is not transferable. There is no cup to drink that will pass it along to you, or anyone else, for that matter. I should know— I’ve seen many try, and I’ve seen them all die.”

  Zeke frowned, looking at the statue, then at his missing finger, then back at Lola’s grandmother.

  “So it doesn’t heal either, then?”

  “There are some scars you keep for life,” she answered. "Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

  Chapter 86

  “Now it is time for you to find rest," said Aetia, "You have traveled far, and I can see the weariness in your eyes. Today was a celebration, but tomorrow, we will preside over the court. There are two matters of great importance at hand, and both must be settled promptly.”

  I saw Darian swallow as Lola moved closer to him, and he spoke up, his voice bold but his eyes betrayed doubt.

  “What are they going to do? Are, are you going to try to kill me?”

  “Me? Of course not. But there are those who would. You did trod upon sacred ground, did you not? And many are zealots—in my age, I’ve learned that those who have forgotten to forgive burn out quickly, but we are in the center of a flame now, and they seek only to burn.”

  “Well, we’re not going to let him die,” I stated, letting my palm rest on the table. “Actually, we’re not going to let anything happen to him.”

  Lola’s grandmother stared down her nose at me, her expression hard and her gaze scrutinizing.

  “You have loyalty, which is good. Strong loyalty,” she said. “But if the Worldwalkers were to decide his fate, there is little you could do.”

  “You haven’t seen what I can do,” I countered, matching her stare.

  “But I have seen your arrogance. The sea is bigger than you imagine, and you are not such a big fish. You simply haven't strayed from your reef.”

  My jaw tightened, but I let the answer stand in the air as she continued to speak.

  “Now, Darian will be tried for his character. He will need to prove his purity—and the simplest way to accomplish that is to show he can access the other side on his own. Young man, you are a Mimic, no?”

  “Yes, I am, but—”

  “But it would be believable that you accessed the other side on your own already. If you could erase any doubt in that regard, the trial will fall upon its face. I recommend the two of you practice,” she said and gestured towards Lola. "Practice hard."

  “You said there were two matters of importance—Darian, and what is the other one?” asked Arial, finishing her coffee with a small frown and eyeing the remainder of mine. "Is it Lacit about to break down your door?"

  “Hmm, I suppose that makes two and a half. But the
other discussion is my granddaughter’s return. For the first time, I grow weary. It’s time for someone to replace me, and for the first time in millennia, there are two. Among the zealots, they have their own leaders who are itching for power. There are many who believe that we have stayed hidden too long—that it is time for us to expand. To return the world to its natural order. I suspect they will be making a play at seizing leadership. This would lead only to disaster, both for my people and for the outside world.”

  “So tomorrow, we’ll be setting the record straight,” said Lola. “Either my sister or I will be taking the claim to the crown.”

  “I may be the only one to remember that tradition, but it is still tradition,” said Aetia, “Besides, the opposition would be foolish to attempt to intervene. Only the survivor can rule, of course. And they’re too cowardly to risk their lives.”

  “Well, that sounds like that issue is solved!” exclaimed Lucio, throwing his hands in the air as if he held confetti. “If only the survivor—wait, survivor? As in only one?”

  “Only one,” confirmed Lola’s grandmother, her voice stone as Lola looked away.

  “Wait, so there’s you,” said Darian. “And there’s your sister. They’re going to make you fight for it?”

  “It is tradition,” answered Lola as she avoided his eyes. “And if we break this one, it brings the others into question.”

  “That’s barbaric,” countered Darian, his voice starting to rise. “You’re going to fight your own family? Who could kill one of their own? It’s insanity.”

  “It’s tradition,” her grandmother repeated, standing to leave. “And I’d advise you to watch your words. It’s how I lost my own sister long ago. We honor tradition.”

  She hobbled away, leaving our table in silence as the rest of the feast disbanded. Eventually, Darian spoke up, his face more pale than when he had realized his own life was in danger.

  “Lola, you didn’t tell us this. Have you seen the muscles on your sister, and she’s a warrior! You seriously can’t—”

  “I have it under control, Darian,” she answered. “You don’t know the rules here. I do. And some can’t be avoided.”

  “Then maybe they should be removed. Think about what you’re throwing away,” he said. "Your life, or hers."

  “You think I don’t know?” she hissed. “Don’t think you know more about this than me. Don’t start meddling in my affairs. I’ve got it covered. Now let’s focus on what’s actually important, and make you a Transient.”

  Chapter 87

  Though it was the most comfortable night of our journey, no one slept easy.

  The Worldwalkers had spared us two rooms, located side by side near the top of the dome. We’d ridden an elevator to ascend to the uppermost branches of the center tree, then walked along a rope bridge that spanned nearly a hundred feet to one adjacent, the planks swaying with each turn of the breeze. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, and even Lucio’s jokes halted until we reached the door and our knuckles turned white on the outer rails.

  The floors of the rooms were enormous knots in the tree branches, with long waving leaves jutting upwards to form the walls, then lashed together to form a gently sloping roof. A clay pot occupied each corner of the room, filled to the brim with water, which Lola explained was to collect dew each morning. Incense burned on a small center table, releasing a thin tendril of smoke that drove away pests and thickened the air. Ferns formed the beds, but the leaves were thick, like miniature pillows with more give than any mattress I had experienced.

  The rope bridge was the only path in or out of the room, and as we were escorted into the room, the guard turned to Lola, speaking softly.

  “You’re sure you want to stay here? I have orders to bring you to the royal chambers.”

  “I’m sure,” Lola answered, and with a nod, the guard retreated. Moments later, a stick with a hook pulled the bridge away, leaving us as an island floating among leaves. With Arial, escape was still possible, but in the distance, two guards watched us from the trunk. And under Lola’s command, we were to stay put.

  “As my grandmother instructed, if we can undeniably prove you’re able to access the other side on your own, you’re clear,” said Lola to Darian. “We're going to need you to mimic me.”

  “Wouldn’t that be more offensive to them?” I asked. “Not just trespassing, but stealing your powers to do it?”

  “No. Many believe that only those chosen can access the other side. That it determines who to block out and who it allows to enter onto sacred ground. So it doesn’t matter how he gets there, just that he does it himself.”

  “And if I can’t?” Darian asked, dragging a finger through the water pot with a small wake.

  “Then the situation has degraded—it will be perceived that you have the ability to enter the other side, and it has rejected you. It makes your act of trespassing far worse. So let’s focus, because that's not a viable option.”

  “Right,” said Darian, following Lola to the center of the room. “But that’s the thing about being a Mimic—I won’t ever be as strong as you. I lose power in the transition.”

  “And you won’t need to be,” she answered. “Simply complete one trip, and you will be viewed as acceptable. We're shooting for a C grade here; you just have to pass. Now what’s the best way for you to absorb my power? Full immersion?”

  “Well, it usually only takes a second to pull it in,” Darian said, adjusting his sleeves to show more skin. “But if I’m going to be taking as much of it as possible, it will take a minute. Can you flicker back and forth?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, looking unsure. “As a quick warning, be careful. We’re at a high altitude, and there’s only the branch here on the other side, no walls. Slip once and it's a long fall.”

  “Good to know that we chose a safe location.” He laughed. "We're really trying to stack the odds on this one."

  “Actually, it’s among the safest,” she started, then her voice trailed off. “Right, let’s get started. I’ll use as much as I can.”

  Instantly, she disappeared, the incense around her swirling to replace where her body had been, then flaring back as she reappeared, bringing with her a flush of air far more dry and sour than the humidity in the room. Back and forth she moved as Darian focused on her, his hair blowing a little with each reappearance. After a moment, his eyes closed, and he stood still, his palms outwards towards her.

  “That’s it, I need a break,” she gasped after twenty fluctuations, and he nodded. "Do you think you're ready?"

  “That’s about all I can take in,” he said. “Here goes nothing.”

  He shimmered, his skin going entirely translucent for an instant to flash a shadow of his skeleton underneath, then popping back into reality. He drew a deep breath and tried again, this time more uniform—and though I could see through him, it was as if he were a misted window—enough still remained to make it evident he had not completed the journey.

  “You should feel yourself snap into the other side,” said Lola. “It should feel like you’re getting over a high hill or breaking through a wall.”

  “Yeah, well, I feel like I’m climbing the hill for sure,” he answered. “But I’m not feeling the top. I can see something, though. It's dark—very dark.”

  “You need to push through that.”

  “Does it look like I’m not trying?” he nearly shouted, exasperated.

  “Well, do you need more of my power?” she retorted, her own irritability showing in her voice.

  “No, this is all I can hold. I’ll have to make do with it. Here we go again.”

  Sweat trickled from his forehead, and he grunted as his power surged forwards—and for an instant, I thought he had dissipated, but Lola shook her head.

  “Look, you’re right there. You’re so close, I can see you materializing over there. You just need to push a little harder.”

  “I don’t think I can.” He brought his palm to his face and wiped away the sweat. And he
tried again. And another time. For two hours, he brushed against the edge of the other side, but for two hours, he failed to complete the jump. Long ago, the last glimmers of daylight had trickled away, and below, the lanterns were extinguished, until it became too difficult to see his progress. And as night approached, he fell down exhausted, with Lola frowning above him.

  “We’ll try again in the morning,” she said. “Get some rest. Maybe you’re just tired and will perform optimally after a full recovery.”

  For the rest of us, the thought of the next day pushed sleep away. With dawn, and before they could practice, the hook returned with the rope bridge, and the guard appeared at our door before Darian had another chance to practice.

  “You’ve been summoned to the roots,” she said as we shook the sleep away. “It’s time to begin.”

  Chapter 88

  The roots, as we should have guessed, were at the base of the center tree and were protected by a wall nearly twenty feet tall of stone. But the stone was not the typical rock and mortar, rather, it was shaped of twisted vines and interwoven branches, their details worn down over the years. Each part bore a different composition, ranging from white marble to dark granite and crimson sandstone, in a swirl of colors that drew attention to the village center even without the enormous trunk.

  “Blender work,” stated Lola as we approached a side gate patrolled by four masked guards. "They owed my grandmother a favor a few centuries back.”

  “And what was that for?" asked Arial. "I’m assuming it wasn’t coffee?”

  “Protection,” answered Lola as we reached the guards, and they flanked us, escorting us as they opened a door that grated along its hinges and thick enough to be classified as a boulder. "But they owe us for that too. Shoes off before you enter. Welcome to the roots, the home of our Vibrants. Our royal gardens—you will never find anywhere else so alive.”