Coming to Power

by T J Marquis

  Despite it all, Jon felt bad for her. All the things that short-sighted man had promised her were falling away, and from the looks of things, she would stay by his side regardless.

  “He must be exiled!” Joah cried, and the people all agreed. Years of pent-up frustration were surfacing in just a few minutes, and the Elder was lucky not to have them all tearing him to pieces. The big man’s tone softened. “Jon, get down from here.”

  Jon stepped down, and made his way to Marnha. He had a hard time meeting anyone else’s gaze after the insanity of the last few minutes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Marnha nodded in acceptance as if he knew exactly what Jon was apologizing for. “I may just be a backwater medicine man, but I learned enough of my craft to know every reaction needs a catalyst. This wasn’t pleasant, but something had to happen with Nak-sakharesh at some point. You were the catalyst.” Marnha’s face grew downcast then. “The price I pay will be to lose both of my daughters in one season.”

  “What do you mean?” Jon said, but he thought he knew.

  “Look at her,” Marnha indicated Eleana. “Even if I forbid her, when they get Nak-sak packed up and on a ship bound for exile, she’ll go with him. They hate each other too much to be kind or even faithful, but they love each other too much to let go.”

  Jon’s heart broke for the man. Bahabe had joined them and tried to wipe away tears before they were seen.

  “And this little one,” Marnha put a hand on his adopted daughter’s head, “is going with you. Oh don’t look surprised that I know. She told me long before she spoke with you. Of course I don’t like it - no father could. But you’ve become a friend to her, and more than that, a harbinger of fate. She’s told me about the pull before, and I’ve put off trying to figure out what to do about it. I don’t think it’s some mere fancy, no - there’s something important for her out east, and it’s either she goes alone, or with you. If either one is evil to my father’s heart, still I have to pick the lesser. She can’t stay here anymore.”

  Bahabe looked up at her dad, rapt, and hugged him for what would have been too long any other time, but in this moment, was still not enough.

  After a few days, with many a curse and empty threat, and all semblance of decorum abandoned, Nak-sakharesh was prepared for exile and escorted to the northeastern docks. The prospectors from Anek had agreed to take him back with them on their boat as a show of their goodwill. It was made clear to them that no colonization deal would be reached at this time, and though they were disappointed at the failure of the venture, they seemed chagrined enough about what they had seen here that they let it go. Marnha bade them farewell as equals, but said nothing to the former Elder as he made his way across the gangplank and onto the Anekan boat.

  Eleana shared tearful farewells with her girlfriends and father, gave Bahabe a cursory hug, and ignored Jon altogether, then boarded the ship in her self-imposed exile.

  Jon and Bahabe had discussed at length whether to ask for passage east on the boat, or to try and have Jon fly, and in defiance of safeness and reason had chosen the latter. They claimed to each other that they were both adventurers at heart, and after thinking it through and estimating his latest flight speed, Jon determined that the small islands dotting the sea between Sem-bado and the mainland were close enough to make his flight sessions manageable. Of course it would be a little harder carrying Bahabe’s weight in addition to his own, but at least she was petite. They decided to leave once emotions had cooled down across the village, so she could share a proper goodbye with her dad.

  It wasn’t long hence, but the days they delayed their departure were peaceful ones. Nobody would let them do any work, and spirits all across the island were high. The cooks and grandmothers happily fattened the two up with meat and sweets, and all the little boys seemed to have begun a contest to see who could offer Bahabe the most handmade tools and trinkets to take on her journey.

  Jon had set his things from the old life aside, and now he contemplated again what to do with them. Would he need his keys? Wallet? His cell phone had been charged, and he’d turned it off. He couldn’t imagine what earthly good it might do him here, but then he supposed at the very least it might come in handy as a calculator or a flashlight. That is, as long as the battery held some charge. In the end, he threw it all in his pack, just in case.

  When all was packed, and Bahabe seemed content concerning her dad’s well-being, she and Jon double-checked their bags and rations and hiked out to the island’s eastern shore. Marnha couldn’t bear to accompany them that far and watch his little girl fly away, he said he’d rather leave it at hugs and kisses in the village square.

  “Ready?” Bahabe asked. Always so brave, now she looked a little nervous.

  “I am,” Jon said. He felt the nerves too. If anything went wrong over the ocean... But this was the path they had picked. If there were anything like fate, or predestination, or a call to some higher purpose in all the worlds that had been created, they would reach the mainland safely.

  “Hold on tight,” he said, and she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Laden with supplies and a friend, Jon took to the sky to find out what came next.

  Chapter 5

  Grounded

  The copies of Nak-sak’s maps proved invaluable.

  Some of the islands Jon and Bahabe encountered on their flight over the Im Gashbi were as yet uncharted, and Jon was surprised at the overall number of decent places to rest. Long swaths of the sea proved to be quite shallow, as if the water had swallowed small masses of land at the whim of the tide. In some places they came across submerged atolls where thousands of creatures made their home. Proximity to the surface, and crystal clear water, allowed for the growth of vibrant coral forests. From their altitude of a mere few hundred feet, Jon and Bahabe could see schools of fish swarming in swirls of a myriad different colors. He couldn’t imagine disturbing such a pristine ecosystem, but if there were a need for more food, a place such as this would boast abundant resources.

  The skies were clear for the first days of their journey, and they were able to sleep under the stars those nights on precious, hand-woven blankets gifted to them by the Sem-badons. Prior to setting out, Jon had been understandably worried about his stamina during their flights, but his experience the other night over the open sea had taught him much in hindsight, strengthening his confidence. He’d found that being in need stretched his capacity to forget that what he was doing should be impossible. Suspended over a deadly fall, the normal strictures of reality faded into a backdrop obscured by the need to survive. He gave his mind over to the spirit of flight, and the power to sustain it came as almost a secondary effect. He thought, too, that perhaps flight was less draining than some of his other experiments because it was a passive act by nature. He’d been thinking of it as generating thrust, but had begun to realize it was more like slipping out of gravity’s shackles, at least at low speeds.

  For her part, Bahabe betrayed no worries whatsoever that Jon’s powers of levitation would fail them.

  She was brighter and more elated than Jon had yet seen her - big, dark eyes drinking in every detail of the wide ocean. It warmed Jon’s heart to see her beginning to fulfill her long-held dream of striking eastward. When he wasn’t pondering the nature and usage of his power, Jon too enjoyed this unique perspective on oceanic travel, thinking that travel by plane - if he ever saw one again - would feel all the more mundane after this.

  Whenever they were camped for the night, Jon and Bahabe had little to do but chat. Bahabe continued to hone her lightcraft each day, but she encouraged Jon to engage with her as she played with her little prisms - she should get used to overcoming distractions and multi-tasking.

  They shared primarily from their childhoods, and though Bahabe was the orphan, Jon felt that the character of his own stories tended more toward expressions of loneliness and isolation. That wasn’t to say he’d been entirely deprived of childlike joy. In fact, he wa
s amazed at how the episodes and challenges of their formative years had so much in common. It seemed that children of all universes shared games, and dreams, and fears.

  He wished many times that he had a way to show Bahabe a movie or two. It felt odd not to have any cultural references in common, and he thought she would appreciate the complex interweaving of reality and illusion that film embodied.

  Occasionally, each of them found themselves taken aback by the unlikeliness of their coming together.

  Of course, Jon couldn’t have guessed at the start of all this where he would go or who he would meet, but finding a friend in a young woman who was also exploring her burgeoning magic was either a massive coincidence or destiny. Often it struck him as uncanny, and he had the sense that he didn’t deserve company so soon after abandoning his former ways. He should be on this journey alone, made to roam in solitude until he found his way and did something to earn the redemption his bearish guide had said could be found. Yet there she was - and he watched her often - innocent and naive, brash and full of vigor. He promised himself he would do anything to keep her safe, to see that she found what she sought in the east. One of many ways he thought he might make up for Cal’s death.

  Bahabe tried her best not to watch Jon, though he seemed not to notice or care one way or the other. She put her best effort into containing her sense of empathy as well, for she did not wish to know his feelings before he chose to share them. Jon displayed an oblivious un-selfconsciousness in nearly everything he did.

  On their fifth day of travel, they stopped on what had once been an actively volcanic island, where a rush of water fell from bulging mountain heights into a cascade of many waterfalls. They were both excited to reach such a large source of fresh water. Mostly because their water rations were running low and they had both begun drinking less than they should, but also because the falls meant a good cold shower.

  Jon gave no thought to removing his shirt in preparation for the swim, and Bahabe turned away with a deep blush, never seeing whether he’d taken enough notice of her to keep his pants on. She trekked around a stand of trees to keep him out of sight, but she couldn’t help but think on how he was nearly as fit as the boys back home, and much more handsome.

  Inwardly she scolded herself for enjoying the sight of him. There were a myriad reasons she was being foolish. Keep control, she chanted, and found another shaded pool with a fall to wash herself in.

  The serpent caught the scent of its prey just east of the big island whose flow of fresh, cold water tickled its unarmored belly whenever it swam past. It remained still, nostrils flared and whiskers twitching, and the strangers above had not noticed it yet. When they were several hundred yards past, it lurched out of the muddy sea floor, here quite shallow, and gave lazy chase, thousands of fish and other sea creatures fleeing before it. It grinned in amusement. There was no time for mere snacks this day, for how long had it been since the serpent had tasted wizard or elemental? Yet patience was paramount. It would not strike until the perfect moment.

  The days of travel wore on, and the sameness of things caused the open sea to lose some of its luster. With long sleep and sufficient meals, Jon’s stamina during flight held steady, but his mind grew as weary as it might on a very long road trip. It didn’t help much that his nightmare of Calvin’s death continued, with only slight variations, from night to night, interrupting what might otherwise have been very peaceful rest. He wondered when the memory would leave him at peace.

  Thankfully the shores of Anek drew ever nearer, so an end to their flight was in sight. Their destination was a coastal city with a wide-open bay that was also the home port of the Anekan investors who had hoped to make a deal with Nak-sak. Not knowing what to expect of the people, however, Jon had thought to come aground a good ways out of town and hike in from there.

  This they did, not long after setting out on the seventh morning from Sem-bado. Though their feet had not long been off the ground, Jon felt there was a character to the earth of the mainland that no island possessed, a sense of immeasurable mass and almost changeless age. It was good to feel grounded again.

  The strand of beach they landed on was wide and long, with fine, tan sand, and very sparse vegetation. Scrubby hills rose to the east, and only a grey haze was visible from the city to their north. They settled in for a somewhat meager lunch. Not much was left but some very dry fish and a few bruised pears.

  Jon daydreamed, thinking of nearly nothing, when Bahabe breathed incredulously, “No…”

  He turned to see what she had spotted.

  A frame of roughly chiseled stone had appeared about twenty yards up the shore, its surface seeming to push through the air as through a thin membrane, until it finally, and audibly, popped through the invisible barrier. The space inside the frame dissolved into a large man, with a hall of similarly chiseled stone stretching out behind him. He took no notice of Jon and Bahabe, but stepped onto the beach and went about his odd work - dismantling the stone frame, piece by piece.

  “Now it’s just getting weird,” she whispered to Jon. “Am I a traveler magnet now?”

  When the big man removed the final and largest stone, apparently the cornerstone of the apparatus, the portal he’d come through winked out, and he stood, brushing the dust off his hands. Then he looked up, spotted his audience, and raised a hand in greeting, smiling infectiously.

  Jon and Bahabe waved back.

  “It never fails!” he bellowed, marching toward them. He glanced down absently as his heavy boots sunk in the soft sand. “Always brings me out near people!” When he was near enough, he stuck out a hand, which Bahabe took, and Jon shook reflexively. “I am Dahm,” he said, “and I’ve found it’s always best to just get the awkward part over with.”

  Dahm was a head taller than Jon, built thick and heavy, muscular. He had narrow, chiseled features, with a loose, goofy smile and kind blue eyes. The sides of his head were shaved as close as a monk’s, but the golden hair on top was wavy and tousled. He wore something like a soft, thick gi whose pant legs were tucked into his boots, and carried no pack with him.

  Releasing Jon’s hand, he raised his eyebrows and said, “A fellow traveler? Now that is rare!” He laughed loudly at Jon’s surprise. “Oh we train years and years for this my friend, don’t be taken aback.” He looked to Bahabe. “And you, too, have a bit of the smell, but it’s not quite right,” he puzzled. “No matter! Come! Share a bit of that delightfully fragrant fish. Nevermind if you’re rationing- give me an hour or two around here and we’ll have the coziest camp you’ve ever seen.”

  Jon obeyed, still unsure what to make of the jolly man, but sensing in him no danger, to himself and Bahabe at least.

  Dahm hunkered down to complete the little triangle of travelers and munched happily on the dried fish. “You two are the calmest I’ve met in some time,” he remarked. “I do think we’ll get along famously.”

  At last, Bahabe ventured, “Where did you come from?”

  Dahm answered, “My home is called Zhamann, which of course you’ve never heard of, but I’ve just now traveled from a place the natives named Marto,” he gave the ‘R’ a slight roll of the tongue.

  “What are you doing here?” Jon asked.

  Dahm’s smile flattened briefly as he answered, “I’m looking for my son.”

  Bahabe looked sad for him, imagining various reasons the son could be lost. She asked, “Was he a traveler too?”

  “No,” Dahm shook his head, “it’s not that simple with my people, but there will be plenty of time for talk when we strike out again. So where are we going?” He smiled broadly.

  Jon looked confused, “We’re headed to a city just north of here,” he nodded in that direction. “Where are you going?”

  Dahm laughed, “Why with you of course!” He chuckled softly at their incredulity. “Look, I know this is out of the ordinary. Ha, you, as a traveler, may not have found the new ordinary yet. But!” He held up a finger. “Bear with me at least as far as thi
s city you speak of, and you’ll begin to understand.”

  Jon and Bahabe conferred silently, and when the girl betrayed a slight grin, Jon knew it was all okay. At last he smiled back at Dahm, “Alright, we’ll see what this is all about then. You can come with us.”

  “Ha!” Dahm barked and slapped the sand. “Excellent.” He went about finishing his snack.

  Jon stood up to stretch and suddenly sensed something, glancing out to sea. Was that a ripple among the low waves? He thought maybe there was something in the water, a long form kicking up sand and algae as it drew near, but it was all just barely perceptible. He strode out to get a better look, squinting in the glare from clouds overhead.

  The massive form of a serpentine creature burst out of the water and closed the gap between the ocean and Jon in an instant. Reflexively Jon sheathed himself in white light just before the jaws of the beast closed around him entirely, swallowing him whole. The forty-yard beast was like an eel, with a lizard-like head, and the whiskers of a catfish. The serpent withdrew into the water, the lump of Jon slowly traversing its throat. Dahm had moved from a sit into a crouch the moment the serpent broke through the waves, left hand buried to the wrist in the sand. Before the serpent could escape, for it was slower to retreat than it had been to attack, Dahm leapt forth with a massive blade in his hand. Bahabe marveled at the weapon’s sudden appearance. It was very rough-hewn and looked brittle, a hastily fashioned blade of something like sandstone.

  Dahm swept the blade down just past the lump of Jon, and its six-foot length cut the serpent’s upper portion clean off. The serpent head thrashed about in its last moments of life, tossing Jon onto the sand like a rag doll. Dahm fell back several steps, lifted his stone blade, and thrust it through the serpent’s wide eye and into its brain. At last the beast settled in death, barely a twitch left in its muscles.