Withered World

by Sara Kincaid

  Alone in the desert, nothing quenched my rage. My breath came in raspy gulps and my tears flowed like rain. How dare they? How could they?

  All at once, I remembered the night Leo had arrived in South Farm. My parents thought I was asleep in my bed. But I had become accomplished at sneaking around in the dark. They had seen to that. They sat in the barn talking to Leo, their faces dipping in and out of shadows that flickered in the candlelight. They whispered hotly in the night, though I couldn’t make out what they said. That’s when I had decided that he was a spy sent by the CPA to find me.

  I didn’t return to our campsite that night and as far as I knew, Leo hadn’t come after me. I needed space and wanted nothing to do with him. He’d broken open the past and, by association, he’d broken me. When I woke the next morning, I found myself lying on a bare patch of earth. I had sucked the land dry as I slept. The dead grasses poked through my clothes. My sorrows had left me unwilling to move and my head pounded with thunder. My eyes were thick and my tears had dried into salty trails on my face. When I finally opened my eyes, I grunted as a strange man came into focus. He was squatting across from me and when the stranger’s presence registered in my groggy mind, my body went into a panic. I stumbled to my feet, fight and flight warring within me at once like two winds buffeting against one another. Reprimands of myself for my stupidity in believing that East Farm was unoccupied tumbled through my head and my eyes roved in search of escape. I should never have gone out alone.

  The man appeared to be in his fifties and his skin was dark, much darker than Leo’s. The rich, brown hue was dazzling and it matched the color of his eyes. His hair was streaked with white and there was earth stuck beneath his fingernails. He didn’t move and regarded me with an even, owlish gaze. “So, I have found you.”

  My heart pounded, all former sadness melted away, replaced by the rush of fear that burned through me. “Found me?”

  He did not wear a CPA uniform and he carried no weapon. His clothes were simple hemp, just like my own, though a bit more disheveled. His rich, baritone voice had a strange lilt. “I’ve been looking for you since the moment you entered this place.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “We are the same. I can sense you and if you had tried, you could have sensed me, too.” His eyes crinkled with warmth.

  I breathed deeply, willing my heart to calm, and tried to focus through my panic. We are the same? I pushed my toes down into the earth. The stranger waited patiently and nodded his head as if he knew what I was doing. I did not close my eyes, but I let my focus leave the space in front of me and tapped into the flow of the energy beneath me simply out of habit. Suddenly, I noticed a pulsing sensation across from me and it matched the familiar hum of the earth. I looked up with a gasp and realized that it was coming from the man himself. “It’s you!”

  “Yes. That’s right. And that’s how I sensed you. At first, and for as long as I’ve been here, there’s been nothing. But then, suddenly, one day about a week ago, I heard you, so to speak.” He shrugged sheepishly.

  “You are Curare?”

  In response, he held up his left arm and peeled up his sleeve, revealing an intricate tattoo of green bird feathers and a sprig of wheat bound by a leather strap. A Terrae Curare, marked by the CPA.

  Each Curare, when taken to the CPA facility, was tattooed on their forearm with the symbol of their individual element so that everyone knew which element was under their control. The Terrae Curare were tattooed like the man across from me. The Aquae Curare, like my aunt, Annel, taken by the CPA so many years ago, bore a cluster of blue feathers bound with a leather strap that dripped with pearls. The Venti Curare wore a pair of gray bird wings with a leather strap tied in a bow, binding them together. Igni Curare wore a cluster of red feathers with sparks all around and a leather strap tied around the stems. The Igni Curare caused the CPA and the government the greatest fear. They were believed to be both the most rare and powerful Curare in existence.

  “As are you,” the man said, interrupting my thoughts. “Though I can’t determine your ability. Usually I can detect such things.”

  “You can tell which element each person uses without seeing their tattoo?” There was much more to our abilities than I realized. What else could we do?

  “I’ve grown familiar enough with my abilities that I’ve been able to accomplish that. But I can’t figure you out. Your energy is unlike the others. It is green but…” he twirled his wrist in the air trying to come up with the right words. “It’s different somehow. There are other energies mixed in there as well. I’ve not seen anything like it before.”

  “Where are you from?” I asked to change the subject. I’d never shared my abilities with another Curare before. How would he respond when he knew that I destroyed the very thing he gave his life to heal?

  The Curare looked at me curiously but allowed me to control the conversation. “Originally? I’m from North Farm. And you?”

  “South. Why are you here?”

  “Same as you, I expect. Hiding.”

  “Are there others?” Others like us. Others I could talk to openly for the first time. All thoughts of hiding in solitude melted and part of me hoped that there were.

  “No,” he shook his head. “I’m the only one I know of who has ever successfully escaped the CPA. Well, until now.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. I had never heard of anyone leaving the CPA facility. “How did you escape?”

  “I got lucky, I guess. But not lucky enough. They still tagged me,” he gestured with his tattooed arm indicating that his inked mark was the tag to which he referred. His eyes wandered along my wrists, which I kept turned down so he couldn’t see them. “Are you going to tell me what you are?”

  Should I tell him? Would another Curare accept my mutation? His eyes were bright and his face was smooth and patient. I bit my lip, hesitating. “I am a Curare, but my power comes from the earth herself.”

  The stranger regarded me calmly, but I registered his surprise. “So you are Terrae Curare, too?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Then why the green?”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ll show you.” I stood, the spot around where I’d been sleeping was already brown, and it was easier to start over and let him see for himself. I began to walk along the grassy expanse of our campsite. Each time my foot touched the grass, the grass wilted and browned as I sucked the energy from it. Each step brought a burst of power that ratcheted its way through my veins like lightning. Behind me spread small toe and heel prints where my skin made contact with the ground. I winced at the pain I caused the earth, but I kept going to make my point.

  As I walked, I turned my face to watch the Curare who had intercepted my lonely campsite. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise. Somehow I knew he could sense the energy of the earth leaving it and entering my body. “You take from the earth,” he whispered.

  “I can’t help it.” My voice wobbled with emotion and unchecked tears pricked my eyes. “I take from anything I touch. Human. Animal. The earth. Plants.”

  “The air.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “But I can manipulate it along with all the other elements.”

  When I ceased my pacing and my power display, I was standing adjacent to the Terrae Curare. He cleared the space between us and grasped my left arm in his hand, turning my hand over and exposing my empty forearm. His touch made my skin prickle and our eyes met. I had never touched another Curare. I got the taste of earth from him and I could feel the tendrils of my energy seeking his own life force. I broke our contact immediately, though as gently as possible. “They have not found you?”

  “No. I escaped. And before that, I hid. My family kept me safe.”

  “Your family?” Surprise was evident in his voice.

  “Yes. They aren’t like the others. The CPA stole m
y aunt many years ago and it broke my mother’s heart. When I appeared, she was determined to keep me safe. But recently, I had to run away. They were going to find me. I left South Farm with the help of my friend Leo. He’s not Curare.” I looked around, wondering where Leo had gone. I remembered the remorse in his voice and the knot in my stomach tightened.

  The Curare’s dark, bushy eyebrows bunched. “No? And yet I can still sense him in the void and thought there were two of you. Only Curare have a presence there. How strange.”

  “The void? Is that what’s it’s called?” I shifted my weight, relaxing somewhat. The wind rose and tugged at my pant legs.

  “It’s a nickname of sorts, I suppose. I had to call it something and that name seemed to fit. It’s the earth I sense, but someplace where only those of us who are special have presence.”

  “Vea!” Leo cried out in alarm and charged through the clearing. His eyes were alight with determination, his body poised for battle. He ran in long, quick strides, his hands balled into fists. The Curare and I still stood facing one another.

  “Leo! It’s okay! He’s Curare.” I turned to face Leo, my anger from the previous night forgotten as his willingness to fight for me registered. I held my hands up to stop him.

  Leo slowed, but moved until he was beside me and staring down at the portly man. “Who are you?” he demanded sharply.

  “Leo!” I cried, alarmed. Though I should have been afraid of the stranger, I felt an instant kinship with him. It was the first time in my life I had ever been able to openly discuss my abilities and the Curare with someone like me.

  The Curare held up his hands, the mark prominent on his forearm. “It’s okay. My name is Adem. I hail from North Farm. That is, until I was taken by the CPA.”

  “He’s Terrae Curare,” I said.

  Adem stared at Leo, his eyes narrowed, though without malice. He seemed to be trying to make sense of something. They were a strange sight together. Leo with his long, lean frame towering over Adem, whose face sagged from exposure to harsh chemicals and whose shoulders were beginning to curl with age. Though Adem appeared physically inferior, I could sense the power that boiled beneath the surface and churned like fire in his blood. “What?” Leo asked.

  “I can sense you. You’re not Curare, but I can sense you. Why is that?”

  For a moment, Leo faltered. It was subtle, but from the way his stance shifted, I sensed his discomfort. “I don’t know,” he answered softly.

  Curious, I turned my focus to the void, as Adem called it, and specifically to Leo. Adem was right. Leo did have a presence in this strange in-between place. I was reminded of the odd sensations I felt when Leo had taken my hand during our flight from South Farm. Feeling my gaze upon him, Leo raised an eyebrow. I kept quiet.

  Adem turned back to me. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “We have much to discuss, Miss Vea. I am curious about what you are capable of,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I nodded, unsure how to respond. There was no room for me to protest. How would I explain to him that I couldn’t use my abilities because I didn’t want to harm the earth, especially when fellow Curare killed themselves just to heal it? He had just seen the way I drew power. I opened my mouth to respond when he said, “I will leave you.” He started to turn away. “It will be nice to have neighbors again,” he said with a smile before disappearing into the brush once more.

  We did not see Adem for some time. Periodically, I would reach out with the new sense he had shown me and try to locate him, but to no avail. I worried that Leo had frightened him away. Talking with another Curare had ignited my interest and my desire to learn more. In the meantime, Leo and I set about crafting a roof for a small barn-like building made of stone we had found near the dilapidated house. We didn’t have the right tools, so we dried leaves and brush for our roof.

  The inside was small. There was enough space for us to roll out our pallets and to store a few other necessities. We were shaded from the heat of the sun, but I didn’t care much for the tight space. There was no alternate exit should we be attacked or found out.

  I sat rewrapping my feet while Leo devoured an apple for breakfast. The ribbons I had worn through No Man’s Land had nearly worn away but I was not yet ready to go barefoot. To do so would be to trust myself completely with the fragile earth. There would be no denying who or what I was then. This time, I used ribbons torn from the fabric of the floral dress I had found in the crumbling house behind us. When I was finished, I smiled down at the bright swaths of color that looped around my feet.

  Leo sighed and pocketed the apple core to dispose of later in a place far away from our campsite. He seemed agitated. “What’s on the agenda today?” I asked brightly.

  “You’re the boss, Vea. You tell me.”

  He didn’t speak harshly. But I knew he was frustrated. Ever since Adem appeared, he had been antsy, always wandering around, checking around corners, glancing at the sky. He saw an enemy behind every shadow. “You never know when the CPA might show up,” he said one night after refusing to build any more fires unless strictly necessary.

  A rustling in some nearby trees drew both our eyes and Adem stepped out into the open. “Good morning!” he called, striding up to us. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “What do you mean?” Leo asked. He stood up straight and crossed his arms in front of his chest, but Adem seemed immune to his posturing.

  Adem adjusted the waistband of his pants over his stomach as he approached. Harmless, I thought and fought the urge to shake my head at Leo. “I started out in this zone myself.”

  “We like it here. The land is clean and healthy! Leo and I decided that since there was a decent food source nearby, it would be a good place to start. What’s wrong with it?” I was determined to call our little outpost home.

  “Nothing’s wrong exactly. At least not until the rains come and the river overflows.” He shrugged his shoulders, his chin disappearing into his neck like a turtle. “Why do you think the land is so clean? The river floods the land and brings fresh soil and washes away the damage our ancestors caused.”

  “You didn’t clean it, then?” I asked, my eyes wide.

  “Not a single square inch.”

  “When did it last flood here?” Leo asked, relaxing somewhat.

  “A few months back. Nothing too great. But I’d wager it’s been doing that for ages.” Adem plucked an apple from the tree and sat down across from me. He crunched through the skin into the sturdy flesh beneath and spit out the seeds as he went. His eyes never left me while he ate. I shifted uncomfortably. When he finished, he held onto the apple core and crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. “Well there, Miss Vea, I think it’s about time we took a look at you as you promised.”

  I raised my eyebrows, unsure of when I had promised anything except, perhaps, through my complicity. I looked to Leo for help but he abandoned me. When our eyes met he nodded grimly and I got the impression that he was enjoying this. “Well, perhaps you ought to go away from our site here. She’s liable to do a lot of damage.”

  “That a fact?” Adem asked. There was something dark in his eyes.

  Leo nodded again and I knew he was thinking of the day I first showed him my abilities and the plants all around me had wilted. I thought wistfully, too, of the giant tree on my family’s land planted by my great-grandfather, the stoutest tree in all of South Farm. It was nothing more than a skeleton now.

  Feeling trapped, I stood and brushed my hands clean and followed Adem on one of his invisible paths through the knotted foliage. I dragged my feet, putting up a small resistance.

  “Like I told you the other day, I’m from North Farm. Was taken away by the CPA on my seventeenth birthday, like we all are…except you,” he said, waving his hand in my direction. I hadn’t made it long past my seventeenth birthday before Leo and I had to run away.

  We trudged through th
e brush, up toward one of the fields where the remains of row cropping were still visible. We could see the indentations between each row, though crops no longer grew there. The field was overrun with weeds, flowers and brown grasses and the field itself was flanked with trees of varying shapes and sizes. “My family hated to see me leave. They didn’t betray me. But they were too afraid of the CPA to try and stop them. I don’t blame them, but I haven’t communicated with them since I left. As far as I can guess, I imagine the CPA told them I died once I escaped. They would never admit openly to losing something as precious as a Curare.” Our feet crunched through the brush and tiny toe and heel prints followed in my wake.

  “You say ‘something.’ We are not things.” I spoke quietly, my mind turning the information Adem shared with me.

  He cocked his big head to the side and regarded me beneath a veil of thick lashes. His nose was large and round, the tip peeling from his time in the sun. “Aye, that’s true. But they don’t see us that way.”

  “Aren’t we precious though? Rare?” I chewed my lip.

  “Yes. But we are a commodity. Something not worth viewing as human. Once we’re used up, we’re dead anyway. You know this. All Curare know this. That’s why someday…” he paused and watched the breeze tickle the tips of the tall grasses around us. “Someday I’ll fight them.”

  We were in the middle of a green field, surrounded by tall grasses that swayed and gave way beneath our feet. Tiny flowers dotted the landscape with purple and blue. My eyes widened. “Fight them? How? Curare don’t fight.”

  “I know. But we should.” He sounded like Leo, and all at once I understood Leo’s lingering frustrations. He was worried about others finding us, but he also was reminded of the cause he gave up when he followed me here, a cause that meant something to him.

  “Bram didn’t fight!” My breath came fast and I felt tears in my eyes, fearful that I would be asked to fight and unsure how to refuse. I didn’t want to add to the destruction.