by Mara Duryea
Sizhirin cast his blue eyes over the cave walls, examined the bedding for him in a corner, wondered about the small hole of rushing water in the far back, and then he held her gaze. They were familiar to one another, but he was a dead fire.
3
The Prisoner
Sleetee fish lurked along the canyon walls. They camouflaged against the ragged rock, and depended on their delicate whiskers to “see” their way. Small sleetees were about two or three feet. Sizhirin could eat three of them easily.
Waiting in a dip in the cliff wall, Gilanra speared three passing sleetees. Their blood trickled into the water like smoke. She gutted them as fast as she could. The kralikins would be coming already. As she shoved the last fish’s guts away from her, the darkness lit with green eyes. She darted into the tunnel with her catch and scrambled onto the small beach in the cave.
Sizhirin gazed at her with knit brows. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” She dropped the fish onto a slab of rock. “Here.”
It looked like he wanted to pursue the subject, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared at the fish on the rock. “Are those everywhere?”
“They’re good for you.”
He took the fish. “It would be nice to cook them.”
“Every fish I catch is safe for a sunwalker to eat raw.”
Sizhirin turned a fish over in his hands. “It isn’t that. Have you ever eaten sleetee cooked?”
“No.” Gilanra sat cross-legged with her spear across her knees. “We don’t use fire. I do have a heat stick. I’m not sure what you could do with it.” She held it out to him.
“I think I can do something.” He took it from her. “I suppose this is like a fire stick.” He rubbed it on the floor until the end glowed red-orange. His brows knit. “Hm…I need wood. It would be too wet, though.” He held the fish over it. The fish sizzled so fast it almost burned.
Gilanra wrinkled her nose. “This is gross. Are you sure you want it this way?”
“It will be okay.”
She took one of the uncooked fish and moved away. If the smell got any worse, she would eat in the pool, with the kralikins.
“Gilanra,” said Sizhirin, “come try.”
“No.”
He smiled. “Come on. Try something new.”
Leaving her fish safely by the pool, she approached the burning mass of ruined meat. It stunk worse up close. Nevertheless, she took the piece held out to her, and bit. She chewed for several seconds. There wasn’t much juice. What did squeeze out tasted like burnt salt, and the meat tasted like salty rubber.
“Mmm!” She yanked it out of her mouth and dropped it on the floor. “Does your brain have parasites? Ech!” She hurried to the pool and rinsed her mouth out. She could drink saltwater because she was a Syladin.
Sizhirin gazed at her as if he thought he’d never seen anything so cute. “Such a pointed dislike! Look at how the little shoulders shudder in revulsion.”
Gilanra examined her shoulders. Had they really shuddered? She’d never thought of their size either. Of course they would appear small next to Sizhirin’s. “I’ll come back when the smell goes away.”
“I see I must pay the price of losing your company.” He looked genuinely disappointed.
Gilanra dove into the water. How long did it take for foul smells to dissipate in the air? She periodically poked her head out of the water to check. The smell wouldn’t go away. Sinking to the bottom of the pool, she closed her eyes. She might as well go to sleep.
When she woke, she surfaced for a sniff of air. A faint smell still lingered, but it was tolerable. She waded to shore.
Sizhirin stood up. “I didn’t think you would abandon me! What a steep price for something cooked!” He stood close to her. “I may eat anything raw just to keep you here! How am I supposed to chase you down when you insist on vanishing underwater?”
Gilanra stared at his great chest. “It stank, Sizhirin.”
“Well, next time, give me my breathing mask, and I will spend the time underwater with you. Do you suppose I could speak to you underwater?”
“No.” Gilanra gazed at his broad shoulders. “And you wouldn’t understand me if I did.”
“Do Syladins have songs?”
Gilanra tore her eyes from him. “Lots of songs. It’s best if you hear them underwater, though.” She took the breathing mask from her belt. It always needed to be wet because of the gills. The bubble just needed to be splashed every once in a while. “Care to listen?”
Sizhirin took the mask, touching her hands in the process. Gilanra’s heart fluttered. Should she feel this way? She was only seventeen, and Sizhirin was at least twice her age. It was like getting a crush on her father. It was borderline gross.
As she pushed the membrane bubble into the water, Sizhirin removed his shirt, revealing a muscled, powerful frame. Gilanra’s insides twisted up, cheeks enflaming.
He gazed at the bubble in some confusion. “I do not need to hear you sing from the bubble?”
“I’m going to take you to where the pekalas sing. You’ll love it.”
“But I wish to hear from you.”
“But pekalas are special. They say they lead you home.” She indicated the bubble. “When you hear their song, you will know where you belong.”
Sizhirin gazed steadily at her. “Did they show you where you belong?”
“Not yet.”
He smiled. “Maybe you will find out this time.” Pulling on the mask, he swam into the bubble.
Gilanra let out a breath. He wouldn’t be able to see her palpitate now. Taking the cord, she took him to the pekalas. If only she could have brought a meemap. Syladins used meemaps like kiderrins, but part of the year challenge was to survive without one.
Once they reached the pekalas, they wouldn’t be able to return to the cave in time. It was all right, though. Predators didn’t go near the monolithic beasts. Pekalas could eat a haladon easily. As long as they stayed with the pekalas, they wouldn’t need to worry.
After what seemed Periods, colossal towers merged into view. Rows of glowing green eyes lined the monoliths. Yellow dots reflected beneath each eye. Fan-like tails and wings shimmered with lights, treading the water. A thrill rushed through Gilanra. The creatures hadn’t begun to sing yet.
Swimming among them, Gilanra floated amidst the sail-like wings. They rocked her up and down. The bubble followed on its leash. The gleaming lights began to glitter at the tip of the fan tails, and danced up the giant bodies to the nose’s peak. The sea lit in blinding beauty. Deep haunting songs boomed from the suspended towers, echoing miles across the ocean.
Gilanra closed her eyes, remembering the last night she’d seen her dad. He’d sat in the sand of her bedroom, letting her chase his tail. She’d loved sticking her face into the dozens of soft ticklish fins.
“I heard the pekalas today,” he’d said. “Now I know where I belong.”
“I didn’t hear them,” said Gilanra.
“That’s because they only spoke to me. One day, you will hear them, and they will only speak to you.”
The next day, he died. Gilanra had often wondered what the pekalas said when they spoke. Did they tell a person where to go, or what would happen to them? They must have told him that he would die, but he still wasn’t afraid. He was the bravest of all Syladins.
The Periods glided by on the haunting wails, encompassing Gilanra’s soul. Her dreams sang like them. Lands she’d never seen beckoned to her. She didn’t know how to get there. Maybe it wasn’t time yet, but the pekalas told her it was coming.
The singing stopped when rays of morning sun sliced through the water. Gilanra jerked awake, realizing she’d slept among the pekalas all night. Traveling Syladins often did that, but this was her first time. She would definitely put that in her report for the Sun Ceremony.
As the pekalas vanished into the misty blue, Gilanra looked at Sizhirin. She’d floated too close to the surface. He could have escaped. If he had gotten onto a
pekala, there would have been nothing that she could have done.
He suddenly waved at her. Had he been awake before her? Why hadn’t he attempted to flee? She returned the wave like nothing was wrong, and hurried back to the cave. Maybe he’d just woken up, too. There was no reason for him to stay unless…no, that was impossible. He was too old to be attracted to her. The thought sent heat up her neck.
When they finally reached the cave, Gilanra secured the bubble to a hook in the wall and moved to unseal it. Sizhirin would have an easier time getting out of the bubble underwater. It was easier finding the seal, too.
No sooner had she found it than a huge hand clamped around her head and dragged her from the water. It flung her into a corner of the room.
Gilanra just glimpsed the attacker, and her heart seized up. It was one of the canyon people. They were like Syladins, except they were gnarled and gray. Their arms and fingers were overly long and as ragged as gnarled roots. Their hair resembled black seaweed. Their eyes were round and white, like the fish eyes from the trench floors. Baring rows of black needle teeth, the creature rushed her before she could get up.
Slamming her into the rough wall, it swung her on her back and straddled her stomach. Gilanra struggled to regain her senses. Those root-like fingers clamped around her throat and burrowed into her skin.
“No!” She kicked, arching her back as she ripped at the fingers. They tightened. Its legs snaked completely around her middle and squeezed. Gilanra gasped, but no air came in. Soon it would lay its eggs inside her. They would devour her from the inside out until she was a husk, and then more canyon people would break out of her shell.
“No!” Sizhirin shouted. “She’s mine!” He gouged his claws into its neck and nearly severed its head. Flinging it into the water, he fell on his knees and yanked the roots out of his captor’s neck. “Gilanra! Gilanra, look at me!”
Gilanra coughed, limbs shaking as if electricity had shot through them. “Wh-where is it?”
Sizhirin cupped her face in his hands. “Do not fear.” He gathered her into his arms and sat against the wall. “You are safe. Nothing will harm you while I am near.”
Gilanra pressed her face into his chest. She wasn’t supposed to show fear or weakness, but she couldn’t control herself.
Sizhirin ran his fingers over her wounds. They were only flesh wounds, and his fingers stopped the bleeding. “Do not fear.”
Gilanra stared at her knees. “Why did you help me?”
Sizhirin lifted her chin. “Do I look familiar to you?”
“Uhm…” What she felt seemed jumbled.
Sizhirin touched her cheek. “You are familiar to me. Do you know what that means? I love you, Gilanra. In Cedris I loved you. Here, under the sea, I love you. Is it a wonder that the pekalas sang to us last night? We belong together, my darling. You are my home, and I am yours. You belong in the sun from whence your smile came. You must feel on your skin what is already in your soul. There is nobody else for me, Gilanra.” He drew nearer. “There can be nobody else.” He kissed her gently on the lips.
If Gilanra had any qualms, they were dashed away. She would go with him to the surface. It bothered her a little that she didn’t remember him, but that was okay. She would in time, right?
The year ended. On the appointed day, they hurried to the surface in ecstasy. Gilanra could hardly think, or breathe. Her love for Sizhirin was bright, untarnished, and pulsing with all the life in her heart, but her dream jarred to a halt as soon as her feet touched the sand. People hated Syladins. How was she supposed to live normally on the surface? She shrank from the beach, but Sizhirin dragged her along by the hand, too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice.
He pointed over the cliffs. “Do you see the smoke rising out of the trees?”
“Yes.”
“That is Ambrian. It is…” His voice faltered, and he fell into a deep reverie.
“Sizhirin?”
Sizhirin bit his lip. “Gilanra…do you…do you know why I…” He shook his head and smiled. “This is where we met. Well, this is where you dragged me under. I thought my life had ended. I didn’t realize something beautiful had caught me by the ankles and forced me into a happiness I thought I could never again attain.”
Gilanra didn’t hear any of it. Her curiosity had been yanked at. “What were you going to say?”
He beamed at her. “I was going to say just that.”
“No. When you looked sad. You were going to tell me something.”
Sizhirin blanched, but recovered himself. “That day on the beach, I was consumed with a force akin to a curse. Since my time with you, I’ve felt light enter my heart again. I thought it would never return.”
“What happened?”
“It is nothing you need worry about, my love. You saved me. It is all that matters. For now, I must think of how to introduce you as my wife.”
Gilanra sucked her lips in. “We’re not married, Sizhirin. We should do that first.”
“My darling, are we not Cedrites? The vows hold through the worlds.”
“But…”
He smothered her mouth with his. “You cannot come with me. For now, my treasure must wait on the beach.” He led her to a little natural cave in the bluffs. “I shall return to you soon.” He kissed her palms and then hurried away.
Gilanra sat down. This didn’t sound right. The point of having to find one another again was because the vows and everything attached to them were dormant. You could choose to rekindle them, or let them die. Sizhirin wouldn’t rekindle anything if he just assumed the vows were still intact.
“Sizhirin!” The voice belonged to a woman.
Gilanra’s brows went up. What was this? She peeked out just as a Hatrin woman flung her arms around Sizhirin’s neck. Blood-red nails gleamed in the sun. It was the most unnatural thing that Gilanra had ever seen. The nails didn’t rest on Sizhirin’s skin, but splayed out like claws. She locked her mouth on his. Gilanra’s fangs slid out.
As she moved to charge the slut, her pink and blue eyes landed on Sizhirin. He was kissing the woman with the same passion as he’d kissed Gilanra.
“I knew a Syladin had taken you,” said the woman. “I knew you would return. I came to see you home.” She covered his face in more kisses.
Sizhirin rested his hands around her waist. “My darling, I was afraid you had given up on me.”
“Never. I love you.” She leaned against his chest. “Your wife fled Ambrian as soon as she recovered from your passionate blows. You have only me now. It must be meant to be. It was well your child was removed. We killed our own Perilith child, but we have many children now. Everything we have done was right in the end. We were together in love, and in the end, it was right.”
A weight seemed to have dropped on Gilanra’s head and smashed through her body to her feet. Had she heard right? The world seemed to spin, and she gripped the cave entrance for balance.
The canyon monster was a soulless creature. It had never returned after Sizhirin had thrown it in the water. It had obeyed Sizhirin. Why hadn’t she seen it? Because she was a fool. A lonely, emotionally disturbed fool who only wanted to be loved. Because Sizhirin had given her that love, she had ignored what was before her eyes.
Sizhirin had told the creature that she was his when she wasn’t. He was a Renzhie. A bloodheart Renzhie, because he had killed his own Perilith child. She was under twenty-three. Terror, despair, heartache, and revulsion burst like a bomb in Gilanra’s breast.
“Yes,” said Sizhirin. “That is what I wished to speak to you about, Azhanya. I have…”
Azhanya pressed her finger to his lips. “Later, my love, tonight. I’ve brought the kiderrin. It’s wandering in the shade. Let me fetch it.” Kissing Sizhirin, she hurried away.
As soon as the woman had gone, Sizhirin glanced back at the cave, thinking Gilanra was still inside, oblivious. Instead, she was sprinting for the ocean.
“Gilanra!” Sizhirin screamed, tearing after her. “Listen to m
e! Stop! I wanted to tell you! There were times when I almost did, but I feared to lose you!”
Splashing into the shallows, Gilanra high-stepped for the deep.
“Did I not say you saved me?” His feet hit the water. “Do you not know what will happen to me if I lose you?”
Gilanra landed on her stomach and sped for the open ocean.
Sizhirin’s sobs choked the air. “Stay with me!”
Gilanra dove under, speeding through the water like a kralikin. The misty blue cut off his agonized scream.
4
A Coward Has No Soul
Gilanra stared into space as the new warriors reported their year-long run. Some of them didn’t sound happy. One of the young women had caught a child and returned it safely, but there was a catch in her voice. A man had snatched a woman from the surface. His report was too cold and lacked too many details. He might follow her yet.
“Gilanra,” said her teacher Srisair.
Gilanra snapped out of her reverie and began to report. “I caught a Hatrin man from Visseria. I dragged him in from the beach. I kept him in the kelikin caves. I returned him safely to the beach, where his wife was waiting for him.” She didn’t dare meet her mother’s gaze.
The rest related their experiences, and then the teachers presented the final spears. The new students launched. When the last of them vanished into the dark, everyone dispersed for individual celebrations, or for mourning.
Gilanra sought Itika, hoping she’d missed her in the crowd somewhere. Laughter and happy chatter sounded all around her, but no Itika among it. A hand landed on her shoulder, and she looked into Srisair’s face.
“I saw her heading home already, Gilanra,” he said.
Gilanra’s mouth tugged down. “Oh.”
“I shall escort you home.”