by Indie Gantz
Avias shakes his head. “Don’t let Bo convince you she doesn’t love the idea of telling you what to do.”
I have very little interest in selling items of clothing to strangers, Charlie.
“Well, we appreciate it either way.” I reply, ignoring my brother. “Tirigan is happy to help today too. Right, Tir?”
Tirigan frowns at me. He gives what must be the fastest physically possible eye roll, before he nods shortly in agreement.
“Don’t look too excited, Tirigan,” Avias laughs softly.
“I apologize,” Tirigan corrects his demeanor quickly. “I am, of course, happy to help.”
“No, you’re not.” Avias smirks. “It’s all right though. Maybe Bo can take you out to the pitch instead. You’ve got a real knack for football. A natural, even.”
My brother blinks excessively for a moment, obviously flustered. After a longer than necessary pause, Tirigan thanks him.
Silence falls again as Avias leads us another few buildings down the road until he stops outside of a smaller one with a flag hanging over the door. The flag is bright with stripes of many different colors, all woven and blending together in a series of twirls and starburst shapes. Avias reaches for the door and pulls it open, gesturing for us to head inside.
Tirigan follows me into the shop, but I don’t give him much room once we’re inside. My body stops moving as I take in the aroma of sandalwood and vanilla. The walls are covered in light-wood panels and navy-blue paint. The floor is wood as well, thick slabs that have knots and imperfections, adding character to that which would normally be forgotten. There are shelves and tables set up all over the store with clothing and jewelry, as well as paintings on canvases that decorate the walls. The shop is warm, but not overly so, and incredibly inviting.
Bo sits behind a counter, folding scarves, her black hair fringed with streaks of yellow today. The small Fotián looks up at us as we enter the store and gives us all an unguarded smile.
“Didn’t expect you lot in here today, figured Mum would have you busy the day through.”
Avias sighs softly from behind us, and then walks around Tirigan and I to move closer to the counter.
“Mum was feeling a bit...” He trails off as he looks back at us. His features take on the shadows of his concern. “...under the weather. Charlie and Tirigan offered to help with the shop in her place.”
Bo frowns at Avias’ words, her furrowed brow deepening further when Avias just sighs again and shrugs.
“Her casts got away from her, that’s all,” Avias says, obviously trying to downplay what happened.
Bo stops folding the scarf she’s holding and lets it drop to the counter. “Again?”
“It’s really nothing to be concerned about,” Avias interrupts, turning back to Tirigan and I. His veiled distress morphs into a strained smile. “Tirigan here was interested in playing a bit of football, Bo. I think Charlie and I can manage here on our own.” Avias’ eyes are steady on my brother, who returns his gaze carefully.
You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.
I am aware of my ability to make my own decisions, Charlie.
I roll my eyes at Tirigan’s inability to accept anything I say graciously, while I walk over to the far wall to inspect an open case of jewelry.
“These are pretty. Did you make them, Bo?”
Bo comes to stand beside me and looks down proudly into the case, obviously pleased with the compliment.
“Some of them.” She points out a silver medallion attached to a leather strap with soft red stones embedded within it. “That one there and the black and green ones on the end. Oleander made the rope ones and the earrings that look like water drops.”
I study the jewelry that Oleander made and feel my lips pull into a small smile. The detail in his work is exquisite. The rope pieces intertwine into different patterns, sometimes geometrical, sometimes floral, each piece so delicate and meticulously planned. I trace my hand over a necklace with turquoise stones laced within braided strands of yellow twine.
The light in Bo’s eyes dims when I look up at her. “I’m sure Ollie would make something for you if you asked,” she tells me reluctantly.
“I like yours too. They’re really lovely, Bo.”
“Cheers,” Bo’s smile returns, but it isn’t the same. She holds my gaze for a second, and I can see something there, some sort of pain, but I don’t know what it means.
“So,” Bo continues, looking at my brother now. “Tirigan, you wanna get out of here or stick around and let Avias bore you to death with proper inventory lectures?”
I snicker at Bo’s question then let out an actual laugh at Avias’ disgruntled reaction.
“If they’re to live with us, they will be expected to—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bo interrupts Avias. “So, what’ll it be, Tirigan? Sneak down to the pitch with me for a bit or stick around here?”
All eyes fall to Tirigan as he regards Bo. Avias’ hands are in his pockets, he rocks slightly back on his heels as we wait for Tirigan to decide what he’ll do with his day. Tirigan lets his gaze waver to Avias for just a moment before answering.
“I think the pitch sounds perfect, Bo. Thank you.”
Avias nods once then turns to me, almost as if Bo and Tirigan have already left.
“Well, why don’t you and I have a look about the store,” Avias says formally, already in teaching mode. I can only imagine what he’ll be like when it’s his turn to go over an element with us. “Then we can talk about payment systems.”
Before I can make a sarcastic remark about how exciting that seems, Bo does it for me. “Oh, now, don’t go laying out all the fun at once, Ave.”
“Pity you can’t stay, Bo.” Avias replies absently, eyes on the papers in his hands. “I do so love your commentary.”
Bo rolls her eyes, but lets the insult go. She turns to Tirigan. “Let’s go then, yeah? I want to get in some play before the storm comes in.”
“Storm?” I ask, my confusion amplified by the nearly cloudless blue sky.
“I can feel it,” Bo says shrugging. “The electricity in the air. Storm’ll be here in a few hours.”
“That’s a Fotián thing?” I ask.
“Yep.” Bo nods. Her eyes flick towards the door, then a sly smile pulls at her lips. She grabs Tirigan’s hand before he can react and pulls him towards the door. “Come on,” she calls over her shoulder to me. “Quick lesson out front.”
I look back at Avias, but his eyes are still glued to his papers.
“Should I…” I try, but Avias waves me away with small flick of his wrist and turns back towards the counter.
“Might as well indulge her. We’ll begin in a few moments,” he says.
Bo manages to pull Tirigan all the way outside before he’s able to gently pull his hand from hers. I meet them on the sidewalk in front of the shop.
“We’ll talk more about this when we have our little lesson together, but I can’t waste a good teachin’ opportunity like this one.” Bo angles her body towards the street, and Tirigan and I both mimic her stance.
“Whenever there’s a storm comin’, I can feel the electrons dancin’ around from miles away. It’s not just Fotiáns that can feel storms comin’, either. Aérasians can feel the shift in the air pressure. Néroians can feel the rise and fall of water vapor temperatures. And Fotiáns, we can feel the positive and negative charges in the atmosphere, which are attracted to the earth.”
“Lightning,” Tirigan interjects quietly.
Bo smirks. “Exactly. Now, close your eyes and focus on one of those attributes. I don’t really know how your lot’s power works, but if you can manipulate all four—”
“Bo,” I warn quietly, looking around for anyone who could overhear her.
“Right, sorry.” Bo cringes at her mistake, but recovers quickly. “Just close your eyes and concentrate. See what you can feel.”
I do as I’m told and close my eyes. At first, all I can feel is the sun
on my face and the soft breeze tickling my skin, but then something shifts in the wind, and I sense something more.
There’s something heavy and powerful in the distance, cold and hot at the same time, pushing slowly towards me. A crackling sound fills the air, sending the hairs on my arms straight up. I can feel the energy, the unfathomable heat, the power…
My thoughts are interrupted by Bo’s voice, pulling me back to reality.
“Oi! Watch where you’re— Oh. Cal. All right?”
I open my eyes to find the sandy blonde boy from the train standing awkwardly next to Bo on the sidewalk, his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. A girl with crinkly black curls and soft brown skin stands behind him, her eyes on the sign above the shop.
“Sorry, Bo,” Cal apologizes. “I wasn’t paying attention. You okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Whatcha got rattlin’ around your brain that you didn’t see us standin’ here?”
“I...” Cal stuffs his hands into his pockets as his eyes dart towards the shop window. “Have you, uh, have you met Celosia?”
“Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Bo smirks then puts her hand out. “I’m Bo. This is Tirigan and Charlie.”
The girl looks at each one of us with a genuinely kind smile as she takes Bo’s hand and shakes it.
“It’s nice... meet you.” Her words are heavily accented as she stumbles over them. She obviously doesn’t come by the language naturally.
“You too,” Bo says with another smirk. “Where abouts are you from?”
The girl looks over to Cal, who gives her a kind, but thin smile before answering for her.
“East of where you guys used to live. I can’t pronounce the name right. She just got here yesterday.”
“I see,” Bo crosses her arms and continues to grin wickedly at Cal as if there is a joke hanging between them. “Well, I’m sure Ave will be happy to know she arrived in one piece.”
“Yeah, we should probably—”
“Rings here, yes?” Celosia asks Cal, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Oh, uh, yeah, but we don’t want to go in there…” Cal lets out a slightly bitter and extremely awkward laugh. “There’s another place down the street.”
“What’s wrong with our rings, Cal?” Bo challenges, her smirk still firmly in place. She turns to Celosia and takes her arm. “Come, love, let’s pick you out somethin’ pretty.”
“Bo, stop. This isn’t a good idea,” Cal tries, but Bo already has Celosia through the door of the shop and has disappeared inside. Cal’s outstretched hand falls helplessly to his hip. He stares down at the ground and lets out a defeated sigh before looking up at me and Tirigan.
“Hey, Charlie. It’s nice to see you again.” Despite the boy’s kind words, he looks like he wants to cry. I put on what I hope is a comforting smile, and then immediately regret the nervous wave that follows. Tirigan shifts uncomfortably next to me when Cal looks over to him.
“We haven’t been introduced properly, but uh, I’m Calor. Cal. Obviously.” He offers Tirigan his hand. I nudge Tirigan with my elbow when he doesn’t take it right away. After a long pause, Tirigan places his hand in Calor’s and shakes it stiffly.
“Tirigan.” My brother introduces himself with a curt nod and drops Cal’s hand quickly.
Cal studies Tirigan for a moment before sighing again and looking back down at the ground. He rakes his hand roughly over his face, swallows anxiously, and then turns reluctantly toward the shop door.
It’s like he is readying himself for some sort of battle. This tableau strengthens when Cal actually slaps his own face twice before gearing up and finally walking inside of the store.
Tirigan and I share a befuddled look and attempt to follow him inside, but Bo appears in the doorway—alone—and stops us.
“Come on, Tirigan. I know you aren’t fond of loud noises, and there are about to be some fireworks in there.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Illusions of Certainty
Unsure of what I’m about to walk into, I take a deep breath and open the door to the shop. Stepping inside carefully, it feels like I’m avoiding a landmine.
To my surprise, I find Avias smiling widely at Celosia, who’s bent over a glass case at the counter. I start to relax, but then I realize the smile he’s giving her is just a shade too wide. Cal stands at the other end of the counter, looking at the exchange with a pair of nervous eyes.
“That color would look lovely with your skin tone,” Avias says. His tone is brittle. It makes him sound much younger. “Perhaps you’d like to try it on.”
“Yes, please,” Celosia answers sweetly. “It beautiful.”
Avias goes about opening the case then looks up and locks eyes with me. Even from across the store, I can sense something painful and strong shuttering through him, but the feeling settles almost as quickly as it surged.
“Charlie! Excellent. Your first lesson. Come here, please,” Avias requests. I give Cal another careful glance and then cross the store to stand behind the counter with Avias.
“Celosia and Calor are looking for their gámou bands. This is a very special time in someone’s life.” Avias’ eyes float over to Cal and stay there. “When you sell these bands, be sure to really get to know the customer. That way you can be sure they are getting what they truly desire.”
An awkward cough comes from the other end of the counter, but I don’t dare look Cal’s way.
“Okay. Um…” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Should I know what gámou bands are?”
Avias looks like he’s swallowing the largest, most bitter pill the world has ever produced as he directs his answer down to the ring he’s offering Celosia.
“Marriage. They’re marriage bands.”
“Oh,” I say simply, happy to have a translation. Then the true nature of Avias’ explanation and the manner in which it was delivered dawns on me. This time, my voice is much softer. “Oh.”
“Yes,” Avias replies, his eyes flicking back up towards the other end of the counter. “Oh.”
“Celosia,” Cal says then, moving towards the other end of the counter. “Why don’t we go somewhere else? I think these are a little out of my price range.”
The girl looks up at Cal in confusion then holds up her hand to show him the silver band with three purple stones inside.
“It’s pretty, no?”
“Yes, it’s nice, but I don’t think—”
“Nonsense,” Avias interrupts sharply. He pulls a second band out from under the counter, larger but nearly identical to the one circling Celosia’s finger. “If your Kyría desires it, I’m sure we can work something out. Let’s see if it fits.”
Avias holds out the matching band to Cal, but the Fotián doesn’t move to take it from him. Instead, Cal stares back at Avias with a defeated sort of look that would look pathetic if it didn’t look so sad.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Avias reaches across the counter and pulls Cal’s arm towards him so that he can forcibly place the ring into Cal’s palm.
Cal doesn’t spare the ring in his hand a single glance. He picks it up, thrusts it onto his finger, and then pulls it off again. Cal places the band on the counter before walking away, mumbling, “fits fine,” and then occupies himself with a stack of sweaters on a table near the door. Avias stares after him until Celosia asks to see another band. I take Avias’ distraction as an opportunity to slowly make my way over to Cal.
Trailing my fingers along the tables as I walk towards the despondent looking Fotián, I try to think about what I even want to say to him. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between Cal and Avias, but I can tell they’re both deeply affected by whatever it is.
There’s anger, a lot of it, but there’s also a lot of hurt, and the closer to Cal I get, the more obvious it becomes. Not just because his body shakes slightly as he stands there pretending to look at a particularly ugly green sweater, but because I can feel the waves of desolation, almost as if they are my
own, threatening to swallow me along with him. The emotional upheaval surprises me, catches me so off guard that I gasp softly before I’m able to cover my mouth.
Cal’s head turns sharply towards me, giving me a good view of his watering right eye. I look away, realizing he probably walked away for exactly this reason.
“How long have you known Avias?” His voice shakes slightly at first, but Cal gains control of it before he finishes.
“Um, not long,” I answer. “My mother and his father knew each other. We actually kind of just met.”
Cal nods then looks down at the sweaters again.
“He doesn’t know,” Cal says softly. “I told him, but he doesn’t really get it.”
“Get what?” I ask, stepping closer again. Cal shakes his head.
“It’s not like I want this. He knows that. I’ve told him… he just won’t listen to me.”
“What don’t you want?”
“You know how it is with some Efforos families,” Cal answers with a sigh. “It’s not like I had a choice. It’s just the way things are.”
I turn so I’m leaning against the table as I stand next to Cal. From this position, I can see Avias talking to Celosia, and I catch his eye when he looks towards us. I give my friend a thin smile, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he shakes his head slightly before returning his attention to his customer.
“I’m sorry, Cal. Tirigan and I, we aren’t from around here. I’m not really sure what you’re talking about,” I admit reluctantly.
“Avias didn’t tell you? I assumed he…” Cal turns and directs his gaze at the Aérasian behind the counter. Avias doesn’t look up. “I shouldn’t... I’m sorry. I’m just being an idiot. I’m sure Ave could tell you all about that.”
Cal gives me a sad, self-deprecating smile then looks back toward the counter. Sucking in a fortifying breath, he walks back over to Celosia and places a hand on her upper back.
“We should go,” Cal says, pulling Celosia back gently. “Thank you, Avias.”
“No buy ring?” Celosia asks.
“Not today,” Cal answers, kindly. “Come on. Let’s go trade for some coffee.”