by Davis Ashura
Adam stood alone. His face had grown pale. He was probably terrified, but he still attacked.
William couldn’t help but silently applaud the man’s courage.
Adam’s sword rose in an upward arc. Rukh parried. Adam followed with a thrust. Rukh parried again. This time he stepped inside Adam’s guard and landed a punishing elbow to the jaw that set Serena’s Isha on his butt. The mahavan blinked, clearly struggling to maintain consciousness.
“Leave and you live,” Rukh said, leveling his sword at Adam’s throat. “Keep fighting, and I’ll kill you all.”
Adam scowled, but remained silent as he levered himself upright, leaning on his sword.
“Leave the blades,” Rukh ordered.
“And the saha’asra,” Jessira added. “Now.”
“This isn’t over,” Adam growled.
“It is unless you want to die,” Rukh said.
The mahavans who could still stand raised their injured brethren. Adam gestured, and a rainbow bridge opened. En masse, the mahavans stepped onto the anchor line to Sinskrill and departed.
The world held silent after they left, and William relaxed. It was over.
“We should leave,” Rukh said. “They might return with reinforcements.”
“The anchor line is opening again,” Mr. Zeus said.
A white-tipped spear pressed past the surface of the rainbow bridge.
William’s mouth went dry. The Servitor. “Run!”
His shout startled everyone but Rukh and Jessira. The two of them raced away from the anchor line.
William led them all at a sprint to the Jackaroo. He had to tug Daniel to get him moving. He felt around in his pockets and found the keys. Everyone piled into the Jackaroo.
William got the vehicle going. He glanced in the rearview mirror and wished he hadn’t. Silhouetted by the glowing rainbow bridge, and illuminated by Jason’s still burning rocks, stood the Servitor. His white cloak billowed about him as Sinskrill’s ruler scanned the area.
William whipped the Jackaroo through the gears.
“My errant raha’asra,” the Servitor said, his voice carrying. “And these others who dared abuse my hospitality. Why do you leave with such haste?”
William peered back. The spear—Shet’s Spear, it had to be—glowed white as the sun. William had to turn his eyes away from the brightness. He pushed the Jackaroo as fast as he dared in the rugged terrain. It wouldn’t do them any good to slam to a halt because of an unseen hole.
A blaze of light caused William to involuntarily glance in the rearview mirror. His eyes widened. A bar of pure Fire erupted toward them.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
The blast hit like a cannon, and the Jackaroo launched like a rocket before landing with a screech of metal. Something broke off the fender. A window shattered. William’s head whiplashed, and he shouted. He wasn’t the only one. A cut dripped blood into his eyes, and he wiped his vision clear. At least the tires hadn’t flattened and the axles hadn’t broken.
William kept the vehicle going.
What the hell! How were they still alive? When the Servitor’s fire had hit, he'd been sure they would have all died. But at the moment of impact, a protective green webbing had crackled like electricity all around them. It had blunted most of the fire’s force.
William had no time for thought. They exited the saha’asra, and immediately fatigue dragged at him. He didn’t care.
A brightness drew his attention again. The Spear glowed.
William spun the steering wheel, and the Jackaroo skidded to the right, toward a nearby hill. It might hide them from the Servitor.
Another line of Fire burst forth. It clipped the rear end of the Jackaroo. The green webbing crackled again and vanished. Rukh and Jessira cried out. The vehicle spun. Metal screamed.
William grunted as the seatbelt bit into him. He saw stars, and lost his sense of direction when his head banged the B pillar.
Another line of fire blazed. It flashed above the Jackaroo, missing by mere feet before detonating like a bomb into a distant hill.
William’s head rang. His vision blurred, and he groggily realized they’d come to a halt somewhere behind the hill. He could no longer see the Servitor.
Relief washed through him.
A line of fire burst through the hill, directly ahead of them. It burned a perfect circle five feet in diameter, and a thunder of rubble followed.
Oh, shit.
William hit the gas. The Jackaroo lurched forward, and passed in front of the hole in the hill. Through it he could see the Servitor. Sinskrill’s ruler still stood before the anchor line.
William kept his foot on the gas.
Another bar of fire punched through the hill and came within inches of clipping them.
William spun the wheel to the right. He evaded another bar of fire. He spun them to the left. Again, a bar of fire missed them by inches. William cut a zigzagging course to the distant road.
Thick lines of fire, hot as the sun, continued to erupt from the Spear. The attacks came without end. The sky lit from their fires. Another turn of the steering wheel darted them behind another hill, and a final blast missed them again before the attacks finally ceased.
ONGOING STRUGGLES
October 1987
* * *
“We’re safe,” Rukh said. “You can slow down, William.”
William heard the words but he couldn’t make sense of them. Fear drove him and pushed out all other thoughts. The Servitor had almost recaptured him. That’s all he could think about.
William kept the Jackaroo going as fast as he could. He needed to get away. He couldn’t go back to Sinskrill. Not now. Not ever.
“Slow down,” Rukh repeated. “We’re fine.”
William’s fists tightened on the steering wheel until Rukh’s words finally penetrated. With a shudder, he relaxed his grip, let off the gas, and eased the Jackaroo to a stop. He flipped on the interior lights.
Everyone in the cabin held silent for a moment. William’s heart thudded as he tried to make sense of what had happened.
Daniel broke the quiet. “We almost died back there,” he said, sounding as shaken as William felt.
“If we’d stayed a second longer, we would have,” Jason replied from the back row, his face pale with terror. “I never thought anything could scare me more than Kohl Obsidian.”
“How’d they know we were there?” Daniel asked, his voice rising, still obviously fearful.
“They must have some kind of alarm,” Jessira replied, her tone cool and collected. “A nomasra of some sort.”
“We’ll figure that out later,” Mr. Zeus said. He sat next to Jason in the third row. “I want to get on the highway and put a couple hundred miles between us and that saha’asra.”
“What about our supplies?” Jason asked.
“They can be replaced,” Rukh said. “Mr. Zeus is right. We should drive on.”
William nodded. It took a few more seconds to fully collect himself, but once he did, he got the Jackaroo moving. He drove slowly this time, careful not to further damage the vehicle, but once they hit the pavement, he opened up the throttle.
For the first few miles on the highway William listened carefully to the engine, hoping they hadn’t wrecked it in their wild ride from the Servitor. He didn’t hear any knocking or pinging, and other than a lot more squeaks in the cabin, the Jackaroo ran as smoothly as before.
Mr. Zeus chuckled then. “At least we know which anchor line we’ll want to use to get Travail and Fiona off Sinskrill.”
William scowled, not seeing the humor in Mr. Zeus’ pronouncement, and he remained silent as did everyone else.
Several hours later, the last of William’s adrenaline dump wore off and his eyes grew heavy. Mr. Zeus took the wheel then, but he only lasted an hour before his head started bobbing.
“We’ve gone far enough,” Rukh said. “Pull over.”
They parked on the side of the highway, and all of them dozed w
ithin the vehicle for a few hours, except for Rukh and Jessira, who split the time taking watch.
When William woke he wasn’t rested, but he felt alert enough to drive. He got them going again, and they stopped for a late breakfast in the same town where they’d bought the Jackaroo.
“Do we sell the truck?” William asked.
“No,” Mr. Zeus answered. “We’ll do what Rukh suggested and keep it parked near the saha’asra leading to Arylyn.”
“I can’t wait to get home,” Jason muttered.
The rest of the drive took another hour, and in the early afternoon, they reached the saha’asra to Arylyn. Everything seemed the same—the sheer cliffs, the lonely trees, the moaning wind—but everything had changed.
William parked the Jackaroo in a cave that Daniel and Jason cleared out with braids of Air and Earth. Afterward, they opened the anchor line, and exited to Arylyn. It was early evening.
Thank God! William wanted to kiss the ground.
Surprisingly, Serena stood waiting for them.
“Have you been here this whole time?” William asked.
“No. Only a couple of hours.” She took in their tired, disheveled appearances. “What happened?”
“Mahavans showed up, including Adam Paradiso and the Servitor,” William answered.
“Tell me everything,” Serena said.
William shifted uneasily. Serena’s regard, more intense than ever before, was disconcerting.
He left it to Mr. Zeus to explain what they’d been through.
“No one got hurt?” Serena asked in surprise. “Against eight mahavans?”
William shook his head. “None of us even had to fight. Rukh and Jessira took care of them.”
“I could have slept through the whole thing for all the good I did,” Daniel muttered.
“You almost did sleep through it all,” William said.
“You beat eight mahavans?” Serena asked Rukh and Jessira in disbelief. “Including my Isha? How?”
“Through immaculate training at the House of Fire and Mirrors,” Rukh said.
“Or being taught by someone immaculately trained at the House of Fire and Mirrors,” Jessira said.
“But against the Servitor,” Rukh said, “we were as helpless as a gazelle against a Kesarin.”
William rolled his eyes. He was too tired to think, and certainly too tired to try and decipher Rukh and Jessira’s secrets. “If you’re going to reference things none of us recognize, how about keeping quiet next time,” he addressed Rukh.
Rukh dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Perhaps that would be best.” Irritation marred his voice. “But what we reference is sometimes the sum total of what we know.”
“What does that mean?” Jason asked.
“We’ll discuss it some other time,” Mr. Zeus interrupted before glaring at William. “If the mahavans had carried nomasras with them, things would have turned out very differently. Your sword would have been useless.”
“What did I do?” William asked in surprised confusion.
“Nothing,” Mr. Zeus said. “Which is the problem. I mean for you to master your abilities before I ever let you off Arylyn again.” He sounded angry for some reason. “You can’t braid well enough. In a fight, you’d have been a hindrance to yourself and everyone around you.”
Frustration at the seeming unfairness of Mr. Zeus’ accusations boiled over. “What happened back there wasn’t my fault!” William exclaimed
“I didn’t say it was,” Mr. Zeus replied.
William wasn’t listening. “In fact, if I hadn’t been driving, we’d have all died.”
“I understand that,” Mr. Zeus snapped, “but until you learn to braid, you’re not going anywhere near Sinskrill. I don’t care if Seminal and Shet are real. You’re not going back until you can fight.”
William wanted to argue, but he realized Mr. Zeus was right. If he wanted to save Travail and Fiona, he had to do more than learn to sail or master the sword. He had to master his magic. He bit down on his frustration. He’d do whatever it took.
The morning after William’s return from Australia, Serena picked Selene up from the friend’s house where she’d spent the night. Before heading home, they stopped by the farmer’s market at the Village Green and picked up some vegetables. Serena chatted with a number of villagers, and felt surprised at how easily such interactions came to her these days. None of her emotions were feigned.
Selene, though, responded to Serena’s attempts at conversation with nothing more than single-word answers. At first Serena didn’t think much of it. She figured Selene was simply tired, but later on, as they descended the Main Stairs of Cliff Spirit, Serena noticed it wasn’t fatigue dulling Selene’s normally expressive features. It was the flat affect of a drone.
Something had happened, and Serena’s heart sank. “What’s wrong,” she asked. “And don’t say ‘nothing.’”
Selene didn’t answer at first, but her fists slowly clenched. “Emma Lake made fun of my accent,” she finally said.
Serena frowned. “I thought Emma was one of your best friends.”
Selene stared at the ground, and her countenance became despondent. “I thought so too, but she still made fun of me.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked me why I speak with such a funny accent.”
Serena’s frown eased. Whatever had happened last night didn’t sound so bad after all. She tilted Selene’s face upward and offered her little sister a smile of understanding. “You don’t want to be different from the other girls?”
Selene nodded, her face once again empty of emotion.
“Are you certain Emma was making fun of you?”
“She asked why I sounded funny when I talked.”
“When she asked, was it an inquiry or mockery?”
A flash of irritation passed across Selene’s face. “Does it matter?”
“It matters,” Serena said. “One is curiosity, the other is cruel. What did she say? Tell me exactly.”
Selene’s head tilted to the side. “She asked if I would ever lose my accent. Akka said I shouldn’t because she wouldn’t recognize me anymore, but Emma said it made me sound different.”
“Think,” Serena said. “Are you sure that’s the word she used? Different?”
Selene’s brow furrowed. “Unique,” she answered after a moment of thought. “She said my accent made me sound unique.”
“Then I ask you again, was she making an inquiry or mocking you?”
Selene scowled. “It’s easy for you to say. You don’t care if anyone likes you or if you’re different.”
Serena bit back an angry retort. Of course she didn’t want to be disliked or live a life alone. Who would? It would only lead to sorrow and bitterness.
“No one wants to be different,” Serena said after a moment of silence, “and yet we all are. The key is accepting your differences and finding those who appreciate them. For instance, when I was a bishan I had to master English as it’s spoken in America, and yet all along I knew I was of Sinskrill.”
“I’m not a bishan.”
“No, but in some ways you have to be ambitious like one.”
Selene gazed at her with curiosity.
“Arylyn is a far gentler place than Sinskrill, but like all places, you have to work to fit in. Adapt to the culture. Their culture doesn’t adapt to you, and you shouldn’t expect it to.” Her advice could have been directly from Isha’s mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because we came here, which means the onus is on us to understand the people of Arylyn, not the other way around. Imagine if there were fifty of us from all parts of the world.”
“There are fifty like us from all parts of the world,” Selene interjected. “Lien is from China. Jean-Paul is French. Thu is Vietnamese.”
“And if the native-born transformed their culture to adapt to each and every one of us, what would be the result?”
“Chaos,” Selene declared after a momen
t of thought.
“So adapt and accept your differences, and find those who appreciate them,” Serena advised. “But don’t search for the insult when none is intended.”
Selene’s face grew pensive. “Emma wasn’t being mean?”
Serena shook her head. “It’s as you said. Emma was simply noting your unique accent.”
“The other day she did say she liked the way I speak,” Selene mused.
Serena smiled at her sister. “Then you have your answer.”
Selene’s face brightened.
“Feel better?”
Selene nodded, and an instant later her face brightened further. “There’s William and Jake.”
Serena saw them crossing Chimera Seed, a blocky bridge serving as part of the web of connections linking Lilith’s Cliffs.
“I’m glad they’re not mad at you anymore,” Selene added.
“They still are,” Serena said.
“They are?”
“William has forgiven me, but that isn’t the same as friendship.”
“What did he have to forgive you for?”
Serena mentally sighed. She never wanted to tell Selene the truth about what she’d done to William and Jake, but perhaps it was time to face her fear. “For forcing them to go with me to Sinskrill.”
Selene’s eyes bulged. “You forced them to go? How? Why?”
“Because I love you,” Serena said with a sad smile. “It’s a long story, but I think it’s time you heard it.”
A few mornings after the near-catastrophe in Australia, William sat with Ms. Sioned in the enclosed garden behind her house.
Azaleas in bloom and low-lying shrubs edged a series of koi ponds, fed by a dribble of water down the cliff that formed the rear of her yard. The smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies wafted out of the kitchen and masked the scent of an old person’s home.
Of course, Ms. Sioned didn’t act like an old person. She retained a youthful energy that belied her wrinkles, and her smile dropped decades from her face. In the few weeks since they’d met, she had already become one of William’s favorite people, reminding him of what a grandmother should be like: openhearted, warm, and with a fresh batch of cookies available at all times.