by E. S. Maya
Safi folded her hands on her lap, rubbing together her thumbs. Just how much did he know? Her fingers went still, however, when the giant shuffled into the preceding church pew. A zigzag of stitches covered his upper back. It took her a moment to realize his work shirt was made from several smaller ones.
He relaxed into his seat before them—completely blocking their view!
Safi stared at the man, then Rebecca, in disbelief.
Rebecca shrugged. “He’s here every week,” she whispered. “I told you we should have sat up front!”
Safi sat up straight, but that did little to help her see the altar at the front of the room. Despite her ulterior motives, she was eager to watch the church proceedings. Back in Ashcroft, her mother had carried her to service every Blessing Day. That was before the church closed down, and she’d been far too young to remember.
“Trouble?” asked Foreman Adams.
“No, sir,” Safi said, shaking her head for emphasis. Wearing the face of a frustrated mother, Rebecca reached over to straighten her hair.
The foreman leaned forward and tapped the man on the shoulder. The giant reacted slowly, his great bulk shifting as he turned in his seat to face them. Raising a hand, he cupped his boulder of a chin as his forefinger scratched the tip of his flat nose. His eyebrows were the color of charcoal, and his eyes were so dark a shade of green that Safi nearly mistook them for black.
“Well if it ain’t Foreman Adams!” The giant glanced uneasily at Safi and Rebecca. He frowned at the foreman and said, “Something the matter, friend?”
The foreman’s beard cracked open for a grin. “It seems you’re blocking my miner’s view.”
The giant chuckled heartily, and Safi felt her chest tremble. “Can’t help that,” he said, shrugging two spherical shoulders. “Don’t need to see the priest to pray.”
Safi smirked at the comment. Rebecca did not share her sentiments.
“It’s our friend’s first time,” Foreman Adams explained, reaching around Rebecca to pat Safi on the shoulder. The redhead squirmed under his arm.
The giant looked down at Safi, and she found herself shrinking before him. He let loose a great, booming laugh that shook the pew underneath her. Diverting her eyes, she stuck her hands between her knees and squeezed her legs tight.
“First time! An Abed!” The giant opened his mouth to laugh once more, and she braced herself for it, Titans forbid the roof come crashing down. But all that followed was an easy chuckle. “You should have said so.”
Safi froze as the man extended his huge arm towards her. He took her by the waist and lifted her through the air. She looked to Rebecca for help, but the redhead looked helpless and horrified. Seated beside her, not even his thick blond beard could hide the foreman’s amusement.
She tensed herself for sharp landing, but the giant set her down gently beside him. “Kemal,” he said, letting go over her waist to offer his glove-like hand.
“Safiyas.” She straightened her dress before timidly returning the gesture. He engulfed her hand to the wrist, shaking softly. They stared at each other for a lingering moment. Safi wasn’t sure what to say. Somehow, she suspected Kemal felt the same. “Honestly, I’ve never met someone as big as you, mister.”
A look of relief came over Kemal’s face, like she’d said something he was comfortable dealing with. Chuckling slowly, he lowered a serious eye. “All of my countrymen are big.”
For the life of her, she couldn’t tell if he was joking.
“You’re not an Abed, are you?” asked Safi, looking him up and down. She nearly jumped with excitement. Large and dark navy blue. The exact sort of trousers she was looking for.
“Abed?” Kemal made an insulted face. “Certainly not! I am Karbassian, a descendant of the great Kadeer Sultanate."
Safi crinkled her nose. “That sure sounds far away.” Her eyes wandered back to his trousers. “Say, mister…”
“Talk later,” Kemal grunted, pointing his chin towards the altar. “Service is about to start.”
From the tall bronze construct came a deep, bellowing sound that shook its way through the building. Safi felt it on her tongue, and then deep within her ears. She couldn’t help but imagine the cry of an ancient creature, forgotten at the bottom of the deepest, darkest ocean. The cry continued, and the stained glass windows began to sing high and true, a chorus of voices too beautiful to belong to any real person.
The construct softened its bellow, and the angel’s voices drifted to a faraway place. The pipes began humming themselves to stillness, and when the sound was no more, three elder men stepped out from behind the instrument. They wore stark white robes adorned with golden thread, glimmering under the stained blue light.
The oldest of the men stepped up to the front of the altar. Around his neck hung a thick gold chain, ending in a disc of stone. His forehead wrinkled beneath his tall white hat, and tufts of gray hair clung beneath his ears. He looked over the crowd with a smile.
“That’s Monsignor Marcellus,” Kemal whispered, voice inadvertently deep. Several nearby churchgoers held their fingers to their lips, shushing the giant into silence.
Safi noticed the priest’s eyes were yellow. When he spotted her in the pews, the smile left his old wrinkled face. She slumped in her seat, heart pounding, and quietly lowered her head.
“In the name of God,” the priest began, his voice high and sharp, “the Father of Stone, the Creator of Worlds.”
“Amen,” said the thousand recruits and Blackpoint employees in attendance. Safi looked up through her bangs, relieved to find that the eyes of the old Serk priest were no longer upon her.
Monsignor Marcellus wet his thin lips. “Today we shall be reading from the Testament of Stone, one-one.” Some of the older recruits and enforcers began cracking open their books. From his enormous pant pocket, Kemal retrieved his own copy. It looked tiny in his leathery hands.
“Here,” Kemal whispered, flipping open the cover and placing the book between them. “You can read, can’t you?”
“Of course I can read,” Safi said, sidling up to the man. She peeked up at the priest and noticed him staring once more, so she put her eyes on the book and reached out to hold onto her side. Her reading was out of practice, but she could still make out most of the words.
Fortunately for her, Monsignor Marcellus opened his holy book and cleared his throat to speak.
1:1 In the name of God, the Father of stone, the Creator of worlds.
1:2 He takes the stone with two hands, and from within He allows the stone to take shape. He closes his hands and releases, and the world is so.
1:3 He breathes upon the world, and from the stone they are born. He creates the first of his children in his image: with two arms and two legs.
1:4 And herein came the age of disasters.
1:5 And when the first of disasters came, the great flood, he granted them the height to stand above the water, and the water could not drown them.
1:6 And when the second of disasters came, the great winds, he granted them weight and steadfastness, and the winds could not shake them.
1:7 And when the third of disasters came, the great burning, he granted them bodies of stone, and the fires of the world could not scorch them.
1:8 And they became the Titans of the world.
1:9 And when the disasters settled, and his children were far beneath him, He divined a mistress, the Mother of All Nature, and spread her across the world.
1:10 God decreed her the most beautiful of his creations, to which no stone may compare.
1:11 And God granted his children eyes, to observe the beauty of his mistress. And God granted his children a piece of his wisdom, to understand her beauty.
1:12 His children observed her for seven ages. And through their divine wisdom, they created something unknown even to God.
1:13 The Titans created Envy.
1:14 Envy moved the Titans to climb Mount Tellavus, the tallest of volcanoes that had burned the face of the wo
rld. Here was where their Father could hear them.
1:15 The Titans called to their Father.
1:16 God said, “Why have you called to me?”
1:17 And the Titans said, “You gave us the height to stand above the great floods, the weight to resist the great winds, and bodies of stone to resist the great fires. But the world has no floods, winds, or fires.”
1:18 And God pointed to the blue oceans of the east, the white snow plains of the north, the green grasslands of the west, and the crystal deserts of the south.
1:19 God said, “I have given you the eyes and the wisdom to appreciate the beauty of this world, the Mother of All Nature. No other creature may see her as you do. No other creature may understand her as you do. Is that not enough?”
1:20 And the Titans said, “No! It is not enough to see and understand beauty. We wish to be beautiful ourselves.”
1:21 God grew enraged at his children. He blackened the skies with all the clouds of the world. He gathered the wrath of the heavens to destroy them.
1:22 But, God had made the Titans so strong that such a blow would have sundered the world and destroyed his beloved mistress, the Mother of All Nature.
1:23 And because God loved his children, he granted their request—at a cost.
1:24 Great arcs of lightning struck out the Titans’ eyes. The lightning lapped at their mouths and tore out their tongues. It shook deep within them until their minds were no more. Never again would a Titan see, or speak, or think.
1:25 And in exchange, God granted them beauty.
1:26 He formed jewels more beautiful than any of Nature’s creations. He placed the jewels deep within his children’s bodies, beneath the layers of immortal stone.
1:27 He spread a few of the jewels across the Titans’ backs so that his next children could look upon the Titans with awe.
1:28 With this in mind, God breathed life into his next creations: too small to stand above the water of the world, too light to withstand the wind, too soft to touch the flames of fire.
1:29 And he placed each of the great disasters back into the world. Indeed, your God was merciful, for the disasters were a shadow of their former selves; enough to challenge his new children, but never to destroy them.
1:30 He gave his new children the wisdom of the Titans, and their envy as well, so they might understand and challenge all that is beautiful. He opened their eyes to the light of the world.
1:31 For his final act, he granted his children a name.
1:32 He named them man.
40
A Place for Giants
Safi sat hunched in the wooden pew, resting her chin in her palms. The sermon had long finished, yet the monsignor’s words still dwelled within her ears.
No, they weren’t his words, but the echoes of a woman from a long time ago. Safi was jealous, just like the Titans. She could admit that much. But jealous of whom? She sighed. Perhaps everyone but herself.
It took Rebecca’s long fingers to poke Safi out of her thoughts. Raising her head, she found the church half-empty. Kemal was gone.
She jumped from her seat, spinning to the redhead behind her. “The giant!” she cried, reaching over the pew to grab Rebecca’s shoulders. “Where has he gone?”
Rebecca pursed her lips. She glanced at the church doors, then back at Safi. “Where do you think?”
Safi gave her a single shake. “We’ve got to find him!”
Rebecca removed Safi’s hands, dusted off her shoulders, and folded her long arms. “You can do whatever you want. I’m going back to the Fiver’s Camp. Honestly, I don’t know how you come up with such ridiculous…”
“See you there!” Safi chirped, sliding herself down the pew. She bolted down the aisle, ducking past the adults who stood chattering in the open church doorway.
Outside, a cluster of churchgoers mingled in the cobblestone square. Safi ran to join them, spinning on her toes, looking this way and that. Still no sign of Kemal. She slapped herself on the forehead and received several suspicious looks. How could I have lost a giant?
She glanced north, where Cronus’ broken chest loomed over the wooden rooftops, a smear of gray stone against the clear blue sky. At least one giant hadn’t gone anywhere.
From somewhere down the way came a booming, chest-tickling laugh, sending tickerbirds fluttering from rooftops. Safi perked up at the sound. She folded the hem of her dress to her knees and put her strong legs to work.
The main avenue was bustling with adults, and she suspected the excitement would soon reach its peak. Back in Ashcroft, the Soaky Oaks tavern was always busiest on Blessing Day. Crunching dust, she followed the giant’s laughter, taking care to avoid any groups of stumbling, stuttering, cherry-faced men.
But then the laughter was gone. She slipped out of the way of the loose-footed adults and stood at the side of the road. She folded her hands behind her back, counting the creases on her boots. From the passing men, she received no shortage of looks. That made her uneasy. The last thing she needed was more attention.
Growing frustrated, she tapped her foot as she awaited the laughter’s return. She closed her eyes, listening to the screaming men and shrieking women, none of whom were as loud as Kemal. Minutes passed, then minutes more. She supposed that giants, too, must run out of laughter.
With a sigh, Safi stepped onto the road to begin the long walk back to the Fiver’s Camp.
And heard the giant’s laughter, louder this time. Close enough to put the shakes in her bones. Jumping at the sound, she raised a pointing arm and began counting the buildings. There! Across the avenue, the third one down. A tavern.
She crossed the road quickly but froze outside the tavern’s swinging wooden doors. A bright merry melody sounded out from within. Above the entrance hung a square wooden sign, showing the painting of a bird on its back at the bottom of a small cage.
Beneath it read: THE SLEEPING CANARY.
Safi straightened her back and fluffed her hair, standing as tall as her small frame allowed. She looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was watching. Then, following a deep breath, she pushed her way inside.
Sunlight must not have been welcome here, for there wasn’t a window in sight. Oil lamps burned in their stead, soaking the room in the flickering orange glow of the Titan mines. Housing the lamps was an assortment of makeshift wooden tables, each of them surrounded by blue-shirted men and red-dressed women. Against the rightmost wall sat a beaten old clavichord, singing its jovial song, and behind it a gray-haired elder woman whose deft hands defied her age.
Safi treaded in careful steps, reminding herself to keep her chin high and shoulders back, how Mother always used to remind her. She breathed through her nose the pungent, yet alluring odor of ale, and perfume, and sweat. Fortunately, the adults were too occupied with their unintelligible conversations to notice her. Most of them sat behind playing cards and iron pennies. The lucky few tables graced by women played a different sort of game, a game of caressed forearms and smacked fingers.
A polished wooden bar followed the length of the wall opposite the front door. Here sat men of many shapes, their large bottoms perched upon round wooden stools. Safi increased her pace, turning the heads of a few drunk men, much to the scolding of their women
Walking the length of the bar, she began counting the men’s backs. The first was too narrow to belong to a miner. The second was broad and thick, but nowhere near the size of a giant. The third was a well-worked back, but hunched and rigid. Its owner had streaks of gray all over his brown head.
Finally, she came to the largest back of all, complete with zigzag stitching. She threw back her head and smiled. Thank the Titans that large men made large sounds. Or at least that this one did.
With politeness in mind, she reached high for the giant’s back and lightly tugged at his work shirt. “Excuse me, mister?” She waited for a response, but he continued taking gulps from his wooden tankard.
Furrowing her eyebrows, Safi poked at Kemal with a si
ngle finger. There came no response. So she poked two fingers instead, pressing into his padded back.
Nothing!
Safi reached for her cuff to roll up her shirtsleeve. But she wasn’t wearing a work shirt, so she straightened her dress straps instead. She reared up her strong right arm and slapped her palm on the giant’s lower back.
Kemal roared in pain. He leapt from his barstool so quickly that the entire tavern seemed to shake.
Safi stumbled backwards. Her shoulder bumped into something cold and hard. There was the sound of shattering glass, and a man cursing five ways she’d never heard before. The sound in the room had broken too, for all conversation fell silent, and the clavichord abruptly stopped.
She turned around and looked up. Before her stood a red-faced man with a big nose, chest heaving. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
She looked down. A puddle of glass and beer was spreading around her work boots. “Sorry,” she said.
“Sorry?” the man said incredulously. “Sorry don’t pay for four beers!” He snatched up Safi’s wrist and brought her close to his big nose. She smelled the beer on his breath and scrunched her face. “You got any coin on you, Abed?”
Safi frowned. She could feel her coin purse in her dress pocket, hidden against her chest. Certainly she had brought money with her, a whole month’s worth of it. But she wasn’t about to spend her hard-earned wages on beers for a drunken fool! Even if it was her fault.
“I don’t got any money for you, mister.” Safi winced he tightened his grip.
“Then how are you going to pay for my beers!”
The pain in Safi’s wrist set something off inside her. Furious, she attempted to yank her arm free, but the stranger’s grip was stone-solid. Here was strength borne from the Titan mines.
Safi yanked again anyways. “Maybe you shouldn’t be walkin’ so close to a lady,” she growled, “when you’re carrying four beers!”
“Now listen here, Titan worshiper.” The man held her arm up high, and she felt the heels of her boots leave the floor. “You bust something up, you pay for it! How old are you, anyway?”