by Davis Ashura
“I did warn her.”
“You should have warned her harder.”
William shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about Serena right now. He needed to talk about the attack from a few hours ago. “What are we going to do?”
“Survive,” Jason answered. “If we can.”
“That’s not much of a plan.”
“I know, but it’s all I’ve got,” Jason said. He paused a moment before speaking again a beat later. “Serena will have to come with us.”
“Why?” Until now, William had planned on just dropping Serena off at home and figuring out the rest afterward.
“Because Kohl cut her. It means she’s been marked,” Jason said. “The necrosed won’t stop until she’s dead, too.”
“Have you told her?” William asked, already dreading how that conversation would go.
“No. I was hoping you’d do the honors.”
William grimaced. “I’ll take care of it,” he said with a sigh.
“Listen, there’s more you need to know. Remember I told you about the saha’asra in Cincinnati? It’s in Winton Woods, but it’s not connected by an anchor line to Arylyn.”
“That rainbow bridge?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “That’s how we travel from one saha’asra to another. But the one in Cincinnati doesn’t have an anchor line to Arylyn.”
“Does it have any anchor lines at all?” William asked.
“One. It leads to a saha’asra in Thailand. That one leads to Arylyn.”
“Then why can’t we use that one?” William asked, hope burgeoning. “Or why can’t we just go back to the park in West Virginia and leave from there?”
“The necrosed bled on the saha’asra in West Virginia. I saw it,” Jason answered. “The blood is like a signal to others of its kind. It’s a sign of weakness. Any necrosed that comes across Kohl will eat him, if he can. Some might be on their way to the meadow right now, hoping we or Kohl will be stupid enough to return there.”
“I hope they get him,” William muttered.
“So do I, but I doubt they will,” Jason replied. “You have to understand, the necrosed have a way of traveling that we don’t understand. You say Kohl is hours behind us, but if he wanted to he could cover that same distance in seconds.”
“What about the saha’asra to Thailand? Why can’t we use that one?”
Jason shook his head. “Because the anchor line going from Cincinnati to the Thailand saha’asra is only large enough to transport small items like the nomasras Mr. Zeus and I use to stay in the Far Abroad,” he said. “It’s not big enough for a person to cross.”
“Nomasras. Lorasras. Lorethasras,” William scowled in disgust. “Why did your people have to make everything sound the same?” He knew the question was petty even as he asked it.
“They’re your people now, too,” Jason said.
“Don’t remind me.”
“You wish you weren’t one of us?” Jason asked.
“If I wasn’t, then Kohl Obsidian wouldn’t have attacked my family. They’d still be alive,” William said with a bitter snarl.
“Maybe,” Jason said, “but there’s more you need to learn about us.”
The Scout’s tank was finally full, and William screwed on the cap. “Like what?”
“Arylyn isn’t the only saha’asra where our kind can survive,” Jason began. “There was a war once, a long time ago, so long that no records of it exist. But the generals had names, Shet and Shokan.”
“Sounds like some kind of ancient gods.”
Jason nodded. “Yeah. A lot of ancient gods were probably our ancestors. They had powers and skills that we can only dream of. And they warred. Their battles reshaped entire continents, left lands barren and ruined. It’s not surprising that people would think they were gods. Those asrasins—”
“Another word with ‘asra’,” William interrupted.
“I know. It’s stupid, but anyway, ‘asrasin’ is the general name for people like us—”
“People like you. I’m not an asrasin yet.”
“Fine. You’re not one of us. But you will be,” Jason said. “Anyway, the war I was talking about almost destroyed my kind. The saha’asras were drained. Only two survived that could sustain us. Arylyn, which you know about, was founded by the magi—the followers of Shokan—while Sinskrill was founded by a rival branch of asrasins—the mahavans—those who followed Shet.
“Where’s Sinskrill?” William asked.
“I don’t know,” Jason replied. “Only someone from Sinskrill could tell you. They know nothing about Arylyn’s location either. The war goes on.”
William rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “You’re telling me I just signed up for some ancient war no one else knows about?”
Jason had the grace to blush. “Pretty much.”
William sighed. “Great. You got any other good news?”
“That’s about it. I really don’t know all that much. I was born out here, just like you.”
“You never did tell me how you ended up in Arylyn.”
“Yeah, well, I was born in New Orleans, just a normal person. But my mom and I were canoeing out in the bayou and we came across a saha’asra. I got sick right afterward, and Mom didn’t know what was wrong with me. None of the doctors did either, but she’d been told stories about saha’asras, and a few days later Mr. Zeus showed up.”
“How’d your mom know? I thought no one was allowed to talk about it.”
“We can’t, but Mom’s grandmother, my great-grandmother, Grandma Layla, was born on Arylyn. Mr. Zeus and his wife, Mrs. Edith, were her parents, but since Grandma Layla didn’t have any lorethasra, she had to leave the island. If she stayed, she would have died, but Mr. Zeus and Mrs. Edith loved her. They wanted her to remember something of Arylyn, so they kept her there until she was about ten. It was the longest she could stay before Arylyn’s lorasra killed her.”
“There was no other way? Like one of those nomasra things?”
“Maybe. But she’d have been the only person on the island without lorethasra,” Jason said. “Would you have wanted that? To be the only one unable to do magic on an island full of magi?”
William smirked. “I’m pretty much the only one of my kind as it is. There aren’t a whole lot of people with Indian and Irish ancestry are there?”
Jason shook his head. “This is different. We don’t have black, white, Chinese, or any kind of races on Arylyn. Everyone there has some kind of mixed up ancestry. But if Grandma Layla had stayed there, she would have watched all her friends master magic while she was left unable to do anything. Personally, I think it would have been awful.”
William tried to imagine the kind of life Jason had described, to look like everyone else but be different in a way guaranteed to evoke pity. He would have hated it.
“Your Grandma Layla left the island before she realized that she was different, but she remembered Arylyn because Mr. Zeus didn’t take that away from her?” William asked.
“He let her remember,” Jason said. “He and Mrs. Edith came with Grandma Layla to the Far Abroad and raised her here. But then Mrs. Edith got sick. I’m not sure what happened, but she ended up dying in Mississippi.” He shrugged. “Mr. Zeus doesn’t talk about it. Anyway, right after she died, Mr. Zeus returned to Arylyn, because by then Grandma Layla had married.”
“Did he ever visit?”
“When he could, but it’s not easy,” Jason said. “He doesn’t like it out here. None of us do. But back to my mom and how she knew about Arylyn. Since Grandma Layla had her memories of her parents and of Arylyn, she was able to pass her history on to her son and later to her granddaughter, my mother, and then to me.”
“How old were you when Mr. Zeus found you?”
“Nine,” Jason said. “He pretty much raised me.”
“Do you ever get to see your mom and dad now?”
“No,” Jason said. His face became harsh and closed off.
Jason’s expression cleared. “You don’t know?”
William shook his head.
“That’s his job on Arylyn. He finds and trains those like us, the ones who come to Arylyn from the Far Abroad.”
William nodded, but something continued to puzzle him about Jason’s story. The timing couldn’t be right. “When did you say Grandma Layla was born?”
“Eighteen eighty-one. She had my grandmother in nineteen-nineteen. My mom was born in nineteen forty-three.”
William’s brow furrowed. That didn’t make sense. “Then when was Mr. Zeus born?”
“Eighteen fifty-two,” Jason said.
William’s mouth gaped.
“We magi live long. Age and illness don’t touch us like they do everyone else.”
TEMPORARY RESPITE
Tension had William’s shoulders tight and him leaning forward the entire drive back to Cincinnati. When they finally arrived and pulled into the driveway, he fell back into his seat and exhaled in relief. Home. It felt good to be back, even if for only a few minutes.
The neighborhood lay quiet with the streetlights turned on, but their illumination wasn’t needed. Strings of Christmas lights and decorations lit up most of the houses, and the entire setting seemed perfectly ordinary and safe.
“C’mon,” Jason said. “Let’s get this done.” He trudged past William. “We’ve got to pack up everything we need, including our swords, and get going as soon as possible.”
“I’ll be up in a bit,” William said, waiting while Serena got out of the vehicle.
“I’ll meet you at Winton Woods, like we talked about,” Serena said, her voice calm and steady. So far, she’d handled everything a lot better than William had expected. Serena leaned her back against the Scout and closed her eyes. Her face was filled with fear. “I can feel him,” she whispered. “He’s there, in the back of mind, like an itch I can’t scratch.”
“I know. I’m trying to ignore it.” William hesitated. “Do you know what you’re going to tell your dad?”
She opened her eyes. “I’ll figure it out. I called him from that gas station and told him we were coming home early for a party at Winton Woods we’d all forgotten about.”
William eyed her, askance. “That’s a pretty weak excuse.”
Serena gave him a flat glare. “Next time you’ve been chased by some monster, found out magic was real, and that all your friends have been lying to you for months, let me know how you take it.”
“I already apologized for that.”
“No, you didn’t. You never once said you were sorry for any of what’s happened.”
“Then I’m sorry,” William said. Even though none of this was his fault—Kohl Obsidian could be blamed for that—guilt gnawed at him. He’d never wanted Serena to get caught up in any of this awfulness. “And I’m sorry you’re stuck having to come with us.”
He’d told her the truth about the necrosed and what it meant to be scratched by one back in Rio Grande, right before they’d left the gas station. She hadn’t been happy.
“Forget it.” Serena pushed off the Scout.
“I really am sorry,” William tried again. “If there was a way to make this go away, I would.”
Serena’s face softened briefly. “I know,” she said. “But right now I’m not in the mood for criticism, and I hate lying to my dad.”
“You can’t tell him the truth,” William warned.
“I know,” Serena said, “because Jason collared me, just like what Mr. Zeus did to you.” She shook her head. “Anyway, this may be the last time I get to see him. In case . . . You know.”
“I know.”
In case they died or reached Arylyn, since once there, none of them could ever leave.
William imagined it wouldn’t be so bad for himself. He would become a magus. But for Serena it would be awful. She’d hate being the only non-magus on the island, as Grandma Layla would have been.
Then again, maybe none of this would come to pass. Maybe they’d find a way to kill Kohl. Jason thought Mr. Zeus or someone else on Arylyn might figure out a way to do so, which was why they were going to Winton Woods first. Mr. Zeus had left a stash of nomasras and weapons there. Maybe one of them would work on the necrosed.
“Get your stuff together,” Serena said, breaking into William’s thoughts. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. See you.”
He climbed the steps to the front door. Before entering, he glanced around again at his quiet neighborhood. Christmas lights twinkled everywhere, somehow tacky and comforting at the same time. Leafless trees, young like the subdivision, stood like sentinels in their front yards. A cloudless sky revealed the stars, and many houses had lights on in every room.
Warm and peaceful. He wondered if he’d ever find such warmth and peace in his own life. After all, they’d started running from the necrosed early this morning, and it seemed like they’d always be running.
The thought left him melancholy.
“It would help if you answered the phone, sir,” Serena said as she stepped through the front door.
Isha glanced her way, surprise on his face. He’d dimmed all the lights except for a single one he kept focused on the book he had been reading. “You’re home early.”
“And you’d know the reason why if you’d answered the phone.”
“I must have been out when you called.” Isha said. He set his book aside.
“I’ve been marked by a necrosed,” Serena said.
The blood drained from Isha’s face. “What happened?”
For the first time since Serena had known him, Isha looked fearful. Terrified even.
For my safety? Why? I’m just his bishan.
“What happened?” Isha asked again.
Serena explained succinctly, as she’d been taught.
“The creature touched William?” Isha asked.
“He grabbed a chain from around William’s neck. It was likely a nomasra. But in doing so the necrosed was hurt,” Serena said. “I heard the creature cry out in true pain. Something about the nomasra injured it.”
“Did it bleed on you?” Isha asked, his gaze more raptor-intense than ever.
“No. It only cut me,” Serena answered. “That’s probably why I can sense it. But it might have bled on William.”
“Think,” Isha said. “This is very important. If William has the blood of this creature within him, he may eventually become a necrosed.”
Serena startled. “Are you sure?”
“Who can be sure of anything when it comes to such creatures?” Isha said. “But it’s possible, maybe even likely.”
“But only an asrasin can become a necrosed,” Serena argued. “That’s one of the few truths we know about the necrosed.”
“William was in a saha’asra,” Isha said.
“But his lorethasra had not come to life. I’m not sure how it was done, but I think his nomasra prevented it.”
“But the chain, this supposed nomasra, was it torn from him?”
“I don’t know,” Serena said with a frown.
“Then William’s lorethasra may, indeed, have come to life. It may be growing even as we speak.”
Serena’s brow furrowed in uncertainty. “If it is, and he also has the corrupted blood of the necrosed within him, does that mean he’s destined to become one of those creatures?”
“Possibly,” Isha said. “But if his developing lorethasra is able to overcome the corruption of the necrosed, he might become more powerful than any asrasin born in centuries.” Isha’s face hardened. Whatever earlier softness might have once been there vanished. “William must be preserved at all costs. We need him.”
“And me?” Serena asked, wearing a sardonic smile. “Must I be preserved as well?”
Isha didn’t answer at first. Instead, sorrow appeared to flicker across his face. Serena would have dismissed such a possibili
ty out of hand if not for his earlier, obvious fear when she’d told him she’d been marked by a necrosed.
“Ours is a harsh life,” Isha said. “We’re taught that those closest to us are faithless, that they’ll disappoint us, betray us, and ultimately fail us. We’re taught to keep our emotional attachments to a minimum, to let no one into our hearts.” He sighed. “I failed in this. You are in my heart, Serena, and if given a choice, I would preserve you over William Wilde.”
Serena’s mouth gaped. She could use what Isha had just told her against him for all time. He’d all but voluntarily bent his knee to her, and all she had to do was accept his submission. But did she want Isha as a servant, or as her teacher? She’d come to trust him, a vulnerability she would never admit to him or anyone else.
“I think the shock of learning about the necrosed must have addled your mind,” Serena replied. “Be careful no one learns of it.”
“You would tell them?”
“No. I won’t betray you.” The words were honest.
“But now it is your words that betray you,” Isha said with a smile.
Serena mentally cursed.
“It seems we both have failed to keep our hearts chained in iron boxes,” he said. “Strangely enough, this brings me peace rather than fear.”
In a day full of shocks, what she and Isha had just admitted was perhaps the greatest.
“What do I do?” Serena asked.
“You go with William Wilde,” Isha said. “You stay with him. Support him if he manages to overcome the corruption in his blood, and kill him if he does not. We cannot allow him to transform into a necrosed.”
Serena stiffened. She didn’t like the idea of killing William even while she recognized the possible need to do so. She also knew how Isha would respond to her next words, and she didn’t like that, either. “Jason plans on taking William to Arylyn through a saha’asra in Arizona. They spoke of it on our way back.”
“You’ll stop Jason as well, or see William dead. Arylyn cannot have someone with his potential.”
Isha’s statement wasn’t a request but a command.
Further unhappiness filled Serena’s heart, but she bowed and kept any weakness or defiance from showing. “Yes, sir.”