by Indie Gantz
The stone returns to its normal state as the last of the shimmering white mist escapes, the message finished.
“Well, it’s good to see he’s worked out that dramatic flair of his,” Vi says softly, not an ounce of malice in her voice. She keeps her eyes on Kor, who’s staring thoughtfully at the stone. His lips are pressed into a thin line, the crinkles around his eyes more pronounced as his brows furrow together.
“Hmm,” Kor hums his agreement and sits back in his chair, eyes still on the stone.
I wait for one of them to start explaining, but neither of them do.
Did you understand any of that? Besides mentioning Obispo, it seems like maybe Porter is a part of some sort of rebellion... right?
That’s what I inferred, although I can’t be sure. I’m more concerned about what he said about the missing Téssera. A vanishing town implies someone with a lot of power. He gives me a pointed look.
What? You think someone like us did it? Tirigan shrugs. I turn to Kor and Vi and try to keep the small level of hysteria I feel out of my voice. “What does any of that mean?”
“It was a pitch.” Kor shifts his weight forward again and brings his hands together. “Porter’s been trying to get me to come back for years.”
“Come back? ” I ask. “Come back where?”
“Dynami…” Kor trails off, ponders carefully over his next words. I hate it. “Before Vi and I left New Cardiff to move here, Porter told me something was coming. He didn’t say what, and I didn’t trust him enough to share what Vi had already told me, but there’s a good chance he may know something more that could help us.” He looks to Vi and raises an eyebrow at her. “Of course, that would mean telling him something more concrete.”
Vi nods, seemingly agreeing with the suggestion.
Kor stands suddenly, and Tirigan and I do the same, anxiety rolling off both of our bodies. “I’m going to reply back to him. Try to see if I can get more specific details and ask if he knows anything else about the disappearances.”
“How long will that take?” I ask.
“I’ll get it out today, but I can’t be sure of when he will reply back. Obispo is on the west coast, so it won’t take long to get here once he replies.” Kor steps closer to us. “Don’t worry, we’re on the right track. We’ll know more soon.”
I want to argue, but Kor quickly moves between us and up the stairs, presumably to his office.
We should think about this carefully, really give some thought as to what we should do next, Tirigan asserts.
Well, we have a location now, maybe we should be thinking about packing up.
Packing up? Charlie, we barely know where Obispo is located. We need to research—
Fine, we’ll research a little bit and then we’ll go. I hate to say it Tirigan, but it feels like I’m the only one anxious to look for Calla.
That’s not fair. His jaw sets, a clear sign that I’ve offended him. Just because I don’t make decisions flippantly, hoping everything turns out my way, does not mean I don’t care.
Look, I’m sorry, okay? I reply, letting his insult slide. I know you care in your own way. I just think it’d be best to start saying our goodbyes soon.
You can communicate with your friends however you wish, Tirigan replies with pursed lips. But I will not be saying goodbye until we have a clear plan laid out.
I chance a glance at Vi, who must be fully aware that Tirigan and I are having a silent conversation, but she seems completely unbothered by it. She even begins to hum softly as she goes back to sewing.
Is this about Avias? I continue and immediately receive the glare of the century.
Stop it. Do not belittle my logic with something as trivial—
Trivial? I argue incredulously. Avias is trivial now?
Why must you always bring Avias into this? He’s visibly angry now. Why has my existence been truncated by Avias’?
That stumps me. I’m left staring at my brother for the few seconds it takes for him to scowl, and then turn around and walk out the back door.
“Something wrong dear?” Vi asks innocently once he’s gone, eyes still on her work.
“No,” I reply quickly, and then sigh. “Tirigan is just...” I work my way to the couch and slump down next to her. “Tirigan.”
“Don’t worry love, he’ll come around,” Vi replies back, putting the tunic and needle down in her lap and placing a hand on my knee. “A soul broken in two needs a lot of time to find its way.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, forgetting my quarrel with Tirigan almost immediately.
“The soul you share with your brother,” Vi replies with a smile. “It’s a little lost, but that’s normal for twins. You’ll get through it.”
“Wait,” I reply, dumbfounded. “Are you saying Tirigan and I share a soul?”
Vi looks at me as though I’ve begun speaking in the ancient tongue of the Anunnaki, but she recovers a moment later. “Please forgive me, Charlie. Sometimes I forget you weren’t raised Téssera.”
“It’s all right,” I reply. “I just… I don’t know what you mean. Is this some sort of Divine Spirit, religious thing? Because if so, I’m not sure I—”
Vi smiles and shakes her head, cutting me off. “No, it’s not about that. No, a twin’s soul…” Vi trails off, obviously trying to find the right words to explain. “A mother can only house two souls, her own and the soul of her child. But when two or more children are produced, a soul is split between them. You’re born as a kind of soulmates. That’s why you can enter each other’s minds.”
“Soulmates?” I balk. “Tirigan is my brother. That’s… that’s not right.”
Vi chuckles softly. “You’re confused by the term ‘soulmate.’ Most Aplos humans spoke of soulmates in a romantic way, but that isn’t the purpose of souls. Souls are far more complex than that.”
“So…” I pause and try to make sense of what she’s telling me. “You’re saying that when Tirigan and I were conceived, a single soul was split in two?”
“Well, we aren’t sure when exactly the soul enters the child’s body. The question is quite the controversy.”
I barely hear her answer. The idea of being only one half of a whole doesn’t sit well with me, especially when it’s my half that can potentially destroy things on a whim.
Vi pats my knee again, and then goes back to work.
“Don’t let it mean something if you don’t want it to, Charlie. Your relationship with your brother is one of your own makin’. And whatever you two were arguin’ about will resolve with time.”
“Well,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “I don’t really know how much more time we have.” I melt back into the couch. “Once we get something more concrete, Tirigan and I are going to have to leave.”
“Mhmm,” Vi hums back, intent on her work. It’s almost like she isn’t even listening anymore.
“Listen, love, would you do me a favor and check on the little ones out back?” Vi asks me. “Cyra’s makin’ puddles for Robin to play in. They’re probably both filthy by now.”
Okay, definitely wasn’t listening then. I don’t blame her; she has enough on her plate without our stuff adding to it. She does seem to be feeling better though, which is a relief.
“Sure, no problem,” I respond, rising from the couch. I make my way to the back door, but Vi’s voice stops me with my hand on the handle.
“It’d be better to have all the facts before you head off west, Charlie. Don’t do anythin’ irrational.”
A smile creeps to my lips at her words, warmth spreading through my chest. She was listening, and she doesn’t want us to go. “All right,” I reply quietly. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Now go on, before Cyra pulls a bloody lake up in me backyard.”
“Okay.” I laugh and pull the door open.
“Oh and love?”
Yes?” I turn back. Vi’s looking at me from over the back of the couch, her expression soft.
“Don’t make promises you can�
�t keep.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Reformation
The morning of the final football match, I find myself alone in the house.
Tirigan isn’t home when I get up in the morning, and Kor takes Robin and Cyra to a playground just as I start on breakfast. An investigation of a loud banging coming from the roof, finds Bo and Oleander helping Vi replace some broken shingles.
After breakfast, I look through Kor’s study and find a map of North and South America. I open it up and lay it out on the floor in front of his desk. The map is updated, unlike the one our history books show. The only pictures I’ve seen of North America are the ones the humans had made and placed in their own textbooks. This map is far less populated than the ones in those books. Some areas are clearly marked, which I recognize as being consistent to the human textbooks, but there are far less of them. There’s a wide-open area in the middle of the country, just one big state, rather than the several that were there before. There are also fewer cities marked. It’s possible there are cities that aren’t marked on this map, but either way, North America is incredibly sparse. It’s unsettling.
Where we are, nestled near the northern jungles of what was once Brazil, isn’t much better. What little of South America is inhabited by Téssera isn’t clearly marked on the map. Pacoa has been written in and there are only two other marked cities. Bogotá and Manaus.
I push through the dark cloud that’s formed in my mind and concentrate on what this map means for us. Obispo is just a few hundred bêrus away from Pacoa, and it would only take us a few days to get there. It’s daunting, the idea of traveling alone again, but we really don’t have a choice.
The creak of the front door opening signals me to fold the map back up, but instead of replacing it, I put the map in the back of my shorts and pull my shirt down to cover it.
There’s a stack of clothing outside Robin and Cyra’s room. I rush over to pick it up, giving myself an excuse to be upstairs. After placing the clothing inside the chest of drawers Oleander made them, I head back downstairs. I find Oleander and Bo in the kitchen, washing their hands.
“Morning, Lee,” Bo says cheerily, drying her hands on a towel. “What were you up to?”
“Just putting away some laundry,” I reply smoothly, smiling. “Finished with the roof?”
“Yep,” Bo answers, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter and biting into it. “Mum’s paintin’ them now.”
I nod and hum with false interest.
“Have you seen Tirigan?” I ask, watching Oleander as he sways in front of their refrigerator, presumably looking for a snack.
We haven’t addressed the Divine Spirit-sized elephant in the room since it made its presence known. After that first day and night after we discovered the true extent of our powers, Oleander seemed to revert back to normal for the most part. There are still moments when I can tell he’s struggling with something internally, but he mostly appears to be his typical cheerful self.
“He went with Avias down to the field,” Oleander replies. He pulls out a plate of leftovers and hands it to Bo. “Captain’s meeting before the game.”
Bo pulls her lighter out of her pocket and flicks it to life. She waves her hand over the plate of food and it begins to steam.
“Thanks,” Oleander says to her with a smile. He grabs utensils and then sits down at the table.
“I don’t know why he’d bring Tirigan to that, though,” Bo says conversationally, mouth full of apple. “Those meetin’s are usually just Ave and Cal yellin’ at each other. Even when they were, well, you know, they were always bickerin’ about footie.”
“Yeah, what exactly is going on there?” I ask, leaning against the kitchen counter and feeling the edge of the map dig into my skin. “Things are really tense between them.”
“Efforos faction craziness,” Bo says by way of explanation, taking a seat next to Oleander. “Poor Cal.” She pauses. “Well, I guess he had a choice didn’t he? He made his bed.”
Oleander’s eye twitches.
“Now they can’t get within two feet of each other,” Bo continues, shaking her head. “Don’t really know how the team made it as far as it has this season with those two acting the way they do on the field. I’m still right bitter over mine not gettin’ in the finals.”
Oleander’s face probably couldn’t get any closer to his plate.
“Anything to add, Oleander?” I accuse, hand finding my hip. The map slides a little against my shirt. I shift and stand up straighter.
“What?” he replies, eyes widening. “Me? No. No... I don’t know.” He makes a face that must be his best attempt at nonchalance. “Relationships are fickle. Am I right?”
“Right,” I reply, not even trying to hide my disbelief. I sit down on the other side of Oleander and turn my body so it’s facing him. “Come on, I know you know something more. Spill.”
“Is there somethin’ to spill?” Bo asks, eyes widening. “Why do you know and I don’t?”
Oleander looks between us like a small animal being stalked.
“Avias is very private, you know that,” he says cautiously, putting his fork down and sitting back in his chair. “What I know could fill a thimble, but I do know there’s a lot more to Cal’s engagement than Avias disclosed to us.”
“Well, it’s arranged ‘innit?” Bo asks, elbow on the table, head resting in her palm. “How much more could there be?”
“Efforos does like their arranged marriages, but usually both parties involved are there of their own accord,” Oleander replies, frowning.
I really want to ask more about the two factions, but it doesn’t feel like the right time. The books say the factions evolved out of differing beliefs in the direction Téssera should be going in regards to population, but other than the fact that Efforos wants to continue repopulating the earth, and Dynami wants to restrict reproduction, I don’t know much else.
“Yeah, so...” Bo starts, brow furrowing as she tries to understand Oleanders words. “So... you’re sayin’, what? That Cal didn’t want to get engaged to Celosia?”
Oleander shakes his head slowly while looking between us. “Not even a little bit.”
“Then why—”
Oleander stops Bo by raising his hand. “That’s all I know, and I didn’t even get that from Avias. I found Cal absolutely pissed a few months back, and he just about sobbed about it until he fell unconscious. Poor sod.”
“Yeah, he seemed really upset the other day, too,” I supply, remembering how startling Cal’s grief had been. I feel for him, I do, but I can’t help but also fear for my brother. Tirigan’s slowly letting his walls come down around Avias, even letting Avias into his head, and if Avias isn’t stable enough to be there for him when Tirigan needs him, that’ll be a problem.
“And Avias certainly didn’t seem to care,” I add quietly.
Oleander gives me a thoughtful look, but Bo starts talking before I can ask what he’s thinking.
“Well, we may see more tears today if Ave and Cal can’t get it together. I swear, I honestly don’t know how they manage to lead the team when they get into it.”
“It’s not so bad during practice,” Oleander argues, shrugging. “They don’t really talk anymore. Aside from a scathing comment or two.”
“After what happened at Charlie’s little tree show, I wouldn’t be surprised if we caught a bit of a show today.”
“Let’s hope not,” Oleander grimaces. “I’d rather we win than see my best mates getting into it or throwing tantrums on the pitch.”
“Now there’s an image,” Bo laughs, standing and chewing her apple. “I’m goin’ to get cleaned up. Game’s in an hour?”
“Yes,” Oleander answers, shoveling more food in his mouth. “I’ve got to be down there soon for practice before the game.”
“All right,” Bo gives Oleander a thumbs up. “Good luck. Don’t trip.”
“That was one time!”
Bo shrugs and heads towards the kitch
en’s opening. “Once was enough to never live it down.”
Oleander throws a piece of bread at her back, but it bounces off the doorway Bo disappears through.
“Clumsy?” I ask, smiling.
“Sometimes,” he replies, cheeks slightly red. “I’ve got long limbs. They’re not the easiest to control.”
“That’s understandable.” I restrain myself from smiling too widely. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine. No tripping.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he replies dryly.
“I’m excited to see a game. Watching you practice was getting a bit boring.”
“Well, you’re in luck that the first game you see is the championship. It’ll be exciting for sure.”
“Looking forward to it.” I give him a small smile and then head for the second doorway that leads to the bedroom Tirigan and I share. I want to put the map somewhere safe.
Just as I’m reaching the middle of the small hallway, Oleander’s voice comes from behind me. “Charlie? I’ve… um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… about before.”
“Oleander,” I reply, instantly recognizing what he intends to say. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I want to,” he responds. “I was wrong. I should’ve never put something so abstract, something ethereal, before an actual person. My words, my beliefs, if they caused you shame or—”
“No,” I shake my head. “I understood, I… I still understand if it’s hard for you. It’s not every day your entire belief system is challenged.”
He smiles. “I had hoped I’d do a better job of approaching it.”
“I don’t think you did so bad,” I reply, smiling back. “You worked with the tools you had, and then you came out on the other side ready to accept things as they were. I’d say you did great.”
Oleander only nods, but searches my face as if he expects to find more of my words written there.
“Seriously, Ollie, it’s fine.”
“Okay.” He gives me a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
I give him another smile, placing my hand on his arm reassuringly for a moment before I turn back toward the hallway to my bedroom. I only make it about halfway down the hall before Oleander calls out to me again, and I turn around to find him casually leaning against the doorframe.