by R. K. Gold
“Here! Here!” she shouted, trying to get Pace’s attention, but he fell forward. His body went limp. She shook him by the shoulders and held him up, but his face had a tint of blue. “Pace!” She inserted the mouthpiece between his lips and pressed the center. She could hear the air whistling through the filter but couldn’t see his chest rising and falling. She put her fingers to his pulse. "Pace!" She held him tight, cradling his head, so it was elevated.
He found her. She never had someone chase after her before. Her entire life was about being passed around. Now, the one person who came for her laid lifeless in her arms, and there was nothing she could do. “You can’t go, not yet.” Armstrong was supposed to protect him. Armstrong was his family, only—no, it wasn’t the colonel.
Dean, Lewis, and Brody. They were his family. They were the ones who had always been there for Pace, no matter what he called on them to do. They chased Miya for him, not Armstrong. “You can’t go.” She gripped his shoulders and pulled the last of his burnt hood down. His blonde hair was fringed from the flames and matted in the back. She ran her hands through the knots.
As the tears trickled off her cheeks and planted on him, she heard him gasp. His red eyes shot open, and he reached for the sky, trying to pull a rope out of thin air—something to climb above the tree line with.
“Pace!” Yael reached around for his goggles as snowlike light fell around them. Each blow between Izkobak and Armstrong shot more starlight into the air. The branches surrounding the clearing rattled, and the sky went dark blue as all the light in the ground vibrated. The teeth clattered, and the earth around them stirred.
"Yael?" He rubbed his forehead. Red rashes broke out on his forehead, cheeks, and forearms. He wiped the ash from his nose and let Yael help him sit up straight. They turned to the fight as Armstrong swung at Izkobak's head. He looked back at the man who raised him. Armstrong only had eyes for the immortal now. They fought on a plane that made Yael and Pace feel like ghosts, silently observing from behind a thin veil.
The two men grabbed each other's wrists. Maya managed to lift her feet high enough to snap the roots holding her in place. She fell forward. The top of her head was heavy with branches sprouting from her. She managed to grab a single fragment of starlight though and raised it at Armstrong, who caught a glimpse of the starborn over his shoulder. He broke his grip on Izkobak before spinning away and kicking the shard from Miya's hand. It landed a few yards from Yael and Pace.
He raised his sword over his head, and as he was about to strike Miya down, Izkobak grabbed him from behind. He slipped his hands under Armstrong's arms and behind his neck. He dropped his sword.
“Grab the starlight!” Izkobak shouted back to his daughter. Yael looked at the shard Miya had dropped then back at Pace. Was he crazy? She saw what it could do to someone. Pace nearly died from holding a star. His clothes burst into flames.
“You need to grab it!” Izkobak shouted again. He puffed his cheeks out in concentration as Armstrong continued to fight away from him. He managed to slip a foot in front of Armstrong’s leg as he tried to step forward and pinned the colonel to the ground. “Get the star, Yael!”
She crawled towards the fragment. Her foot was still bruised from the crevice, and her calf still sore from the sword. She could feel the pain biting her as she inched towards the Mother's light on her hands and knees. All the lights in the ground rung like tuning forks.
She reached the light, and her hand hovered over it. She felt the fire between her skin and the star. It prickled her fingertips. Still, she couldn't bring herself to hold it. Pace pulled his knees to his chest. He held the power of a god in his hands and could now barely sit up straight. What if that were to happen to Yael? Especially now. Ms. White would be glad to be rid of her.
“Grab it!” Izkobak shouted as Armstrong attempted to weasel out of his grip. She clutched the light and felt a burning sensation fill her limbs. The hair on the back of her neck stood, and the air around her crackled. She smelled candle wax and the sweet scent of kumquats from the south. The winds around her brought her back to the docks of Eselport. She could feel the breeze blowing her hair, and where she aimed the tooth, the wind blew. The leaves rattled around the clearing, and beneath her feet, she could feel vibrations. The black roots that split the earth drove forward. She could bend them like knuckles on her finger if she wanted. She could claw through the dirt and pull it apart like Armstrong could. Her feet planted in the ground, and if she stayed put long enough, she could feel her toes already elongating into roots. All she had to do was stand a little taller and stretch out her hands, and she could grow branches of her own.
Miya stretched a hand through the air. She pulled at an invisible curtain, trying to drag herself forward or reveal something. Armstrong elbowed Izkobak in the stomach, but the immortal refused to let go. Yael aimed the shard at the two immortals, and a fire resonating in her palm. It filled her entire body, flooding her stomach before circulating through the rest of her body. The forest was a jaw ready to snap shut. All she had to do was will it, and the earth beneath them all would drop. The trees were its teeth and could grind them up.
She kept the star aimed at the two immortals even as it illuminated more brightly. Trails of white stardust fled Yael’s hand. Her father, her real father, the man who abandoned her on the day she was born, now stood in her blast radius. It was too soon to say goodbye.
White starlight sprinkled between her fingers. Was it like the light he saw her mother under? Could she join her if she let the light bury her? Maybe they would all be together. She looked back at Pace. It wasn’t about who birthed him. He said it himself—family were the ones who were there for you. He was the one who was there for her. He chased her into the forest after Miya took her away.
The fragment ignited in her hand, but she maintained her grip even as the white flames licked her fingers. A bone-white glow spiraled around the two men. As Armstrong elbowed free, Yael’s father resecured his grip and yanked him back. Armstrong gasped. His white and red eyes bulged, and he thrashed the air. Pace found his footing and saw what Yael was doing.
“Armstrong!” He ran to the men when a halo of light pulsed through the forest. He fell back on Yael’s feet. She lowered the starlight momentarily at his touch.
“Pace!” She went to help him, but the fires from the fragment spiraled up her arm. She could feel it sinking under her skin, igniting her veins. She could melt into the light and float into the sky with the Mother. She could be a freckle in the night. Her white eye would be a light for those lost beneath her to find comfort, not scoff, and scurry away. All she had to do was let go, and the problems of the world would literally be beneath her. All she had to do was let go.
“Drop it, you’re killing him,” Pace said, and Yael snapped back to her footing. Pace’s hands were on her feet, and Armstrong managed to crack the roots around his ankles. He fought away from Izkobak.
“You can’t kill him.” Pace’s lips trembled.
"Yael!" her father shouted across the clearing as Armstrong broke out of his grip. He made a beeline for one of the six remaining stars in the ground. All their lights burned a scorching white, and they looked like they could explode at any moment.
“I have to,” she said to Pace, who didn’t reach for her with his hand or voice. Instead, just lowering his head. She could feel the vibration of his sobs on her ankles. A flash caught the corner of her eyes, followed by a loud clink.
Miya vaulted in front of Armstrong, swiping his ankles, and Yael heard his body smack the earth. Still, Pace couldn’t bring himself to look up. Miya and the colonel held each other by the shoulders, each trying to secure an advantageous grip on the other as Izkobak piled on.
A single star popped. Streams of light shot into the sky like firecrackers.
Pop! Pop! Pop! The trees in the forest stretched the sky as the night air returned to a dark blue. As the light exploded, it shot in all directions, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. The light fell in f
lakes.
“He wants to burn the world. Pace, can’t you see that? He doesn’t want to save us; he wants to wipe out two entire countries.” Yael’s star ignited with the others. Its shell melted faster than before, and the cloud around her hand singed her fingertips. She could feel the rest of its heat hovering around her skin like rain on windows after a storm. Pace pulled at her pant leg but didn’t yank down or throw off her aim. He held himself off the ground. His hand and neck went limp, but the rest of his body remained stiff.
Yael closed her eyes and once more felt the power of the Mother flood her body. Her fingertips shivered to the point that the lines of her prints felt like they might detach like loose threads. When she stretched out her hands, it wasn’t her physical body but the power of the star grabbing hold of Armstrong and Izkobak. Even as Armstrong tried to fight away, the light bound his back to Izkobak’s torso. The two twisted around each other. One struggling to break free, and the other desperately opposing the fight. One's skin hardened to black stone. A beautiful granite, so smooth Yael could almost see herself reflected off the side. The other a hot white matching the light of the stars around them. They twisted in spirals into the sky until their skin cracked into bark. Their outstretched arms elongated with branches breaking off from each fingertip. Armstrong's hair curled into leaves and burst high into the sky. Izkobak's face remained expressionless as the trunk imprinted around him.
They were in a yellow-tinted translucent cylinder of light, and as it felt like it couldn't burn any brighter, the star in Yael’s hand sizzled, and dust blew from her palm. The tree stood still. Its branches quiet, and even the wind in the clearing died down. Half of Izkobak's face was carved in the trunk. His right eye was open and expressionless.
Miya crawled to the tree, and Yael reached down to help Pace up. Pace's face was red, and though he didn't struggle to breathe, he couldn’t keep himself up straight without Yael’s assistance. Miya put her hand on her father’s face. The two immortals stood together now. Their black and white trunks swirled around each other taller than the Mother’s tree originally stood.
Two immortals forever struggling, and still, the father's face was at peace. Miya lay down and closed her eyes. Her half-wooden body molded into the base of the trunk. She rotated over the ground, and as her torso spun, her body sank into the earth. Purple flowers with yellow spots grew where her hands were, and a bushel of red flowers sprouted from her lips. As she disappeared beneath the ground, a garden took her place.
25
They followed the path out of the forest. Pace wrapped his arm around Yael's shoulders. He limped beside her, yanking her down. The ghost flower in her hair dangled on a loose thread, and the night sky at the end of the forest widened. Framed by a perfect row of trees. Their branches arched over them like the oaks in Eselport extending across the road. They felt like arms tossing flowers and coins from balconies along the road to the port during parades.
Pace remained silent. His fingers dug into Yael's shoulders, she could feel his grief biting her through his nails. They reached the edge of the forest, and Yael froze. She needed to get Pace out. Nothing was waiting for them inside.
The moment Izkobak and Armstrong transformed into a tree, the remaining starlight erupted into the sky. The ground vibrated, and the trees hissed. They all grew higher into the sky, and Yael could see the roots slithering beneath the surface.
However, her father was still back there, intertwined with Armstrong for the next thousand years, and she knew setting foot outside the forest meant never going back. At least not in the same way. When Miya first brought her there, she was in the presence of a god. She would never get to be brought to that presence again.
They exited the forest, and Yael saw it now stretched further than she could see. An arching rib across the landscape, keeping the heart of the nation protected. A glowing white mist illuminated the sky. Maybe they were stuck in a dream. Or conceivably, the cataracts of the world worsened when the Mother returned.
Pace removed his breathing apparatus and dropped it to the ground as he took his first full breath outside the forest. He closed his eyes, savoring its freshness. There was a crispness to the air the world didn't have before they entered the forest. Like the contrast on all their senses rose, so the darkest blacks in the sky sank into nothingness, and the brightest whites hovered just beside them. Even the greens and browns of the earth popped like they had been living their entire lives in another person's sketch and only just then left the notebook.
Pace’s hands curled around the stems of ghost flowers. The ankle-high grass was littered with purple and yellow. Yael crouched beside him, looking ahead at a wooden shrine that looked like the altars along the north's roads, only there was no tree behind it. There was no spirit to give thanks to. It stood independent of any other structure, surrounded by ghost flowers in an open field.
"Armstrong brought me back here once." Pace cleared his throat and rolled over until he sat up straight. He pushed his hands back through the grass and curled his fingers. "Showed me the shrine. Neither of us knew who moved it." He wiped his nose. His eyes were still red and puffy, but Yael couldn't tell if it was from the toxins in the forest or the loss of Armstrong. It didn't matter, though. She sat beside him and looked out. The flowers surrounding them brought her back to her father's words. They hugged her like a blanket in the night sky. Bringing her warmth. Words to hang onto. Finally, she heard his voice. She listened to his stories and saw his face. She had to live the rest of her life without him, but the years to follow would at least have his voice.
She pulled the flower from her hair. It was her mother’s favorite, and she looked ahead to the shrine. Vines wrapped around its wooden frame and growing off the sides were identical purple flowers.
“He wasn’t a monster,” Pace said. Yael didn’t know how to respond. She watched the blonde boy pull his hair back. His cheeks were red, and his arms were covered in rashes. “I had never seen that side of him before.”
“I know,” Yael finally spoke. “I only ever heard about how brave Armstrong was growing up.”
“He was more than that. It wasn’t bravery that kept him going at Twin Rivers. He told me that one night at his brother’s inn, when it felt like half of Wydser filed through the doors to celebrate with him.”
"Then, what was it?"
Pace didn’t respond at first. He looked ahead to the shrine, waiting for the world he thanked so much for protection to feed him the words he needed now. “I had never seen that side of him before. He knew a second war was coming, and all he wanted was to avoid the death it brought. I think he believed he was stopping it.”
"It wasn't about protecting us," Yael replied, and to her surprise, Pace didn't speak up. She couldn't tell if he wanted to hear her words or simply couldn't speak. She felt a lump growing in her throat, but the more she spoke, the smaller she kept it. “He wanted revenge.”
“Would that have been so wrong?”
“I don’t know. All I know for sure is he wanted to hurt a lot of people who had nothing to do with Lansing.”
“I never saw that side of him before,” Pace repeated and curled his hands around the stem of a ghost flower. “Never.”
Yael's eyes followed a purple and yellow trail from where they sat all the way to the shrine in front of them. Her fingers lifted the petals of the flowers next to her lap. "It belonged to the baker. She built it for the cherry blossom in her backyard." Pace kept his eyes on the shrine. Yael could hear him breathing. "About the only memory, I have of this place. Kinda pathetic, right? I couldn’t remember the last thing my parents told me if I tried, but I can remember the pinks of the cherry blossom.”
“She was my mother,” Yael replied. The silence hung over them as the white mist in the sky parted, revealing the deep blue of the evening. Already remnants of the Mother faded out of the atmosphere. In another thousand years, she would be whole once again, only to destroy herself to reset the world. “Before you and Armstrong came�
��he told me about her.”
“He?” Pace turned his head, but Yael kept her eyes straight ahead. Pace wasn’t the only one who lost family in the forest.
“He was my father.” Yael brushed her chin. Her lower lip trembled, and a hot pressure squeezed her temples. “The immortal of the forest left and for a brief period, returned to the world. He told me she used to watch out for the forest like you. I—I wish I could’ve met her.”
Again, the silence swallowed them. Pace slid his hand over the grass, and Yael could feel the warmth of his fingers resonating against the side of her hand. She flattened her palm to the ground as he lifted his, and the warmness of his skin prickled the back of her wrist. Their fingers curled around each other, and they both leaned back, looking up at the stars in the sky. “You came back for me?” her voice cracked. Did he come searching for her, or was it only because Armstrong asked him to come along?
“We only had two suits… the others wanted to, but Armstrong insisted they went somewhere safe. I wasn’t even supposed to come.”
“But you did.”
Pace tightened his grip. “Of course.”
“For the Mother?” A thin film of tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“For you,” Pace replied.
She let out a sob, and he ran his thumb along the back of her hand. She had never felt anything like this before. The pressure in her head vanished, and the heat flooded her entire body. She had found a family. Not a roof. Not a deal. A family.
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever R.K. Gold publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-SPJH-MJHIB
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.