The God Eaters

by Jesse Hajicek

  "White?" Kieran's tone was venomous.

  "Cosmopolitan, I was going to say. Come on, I'll swallow my foot plenty without you shoving it in for me."

  After a moment, Kieran's shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled. "All right. Cosmopolitan."

  "I mean, everything you've told me about yourself was a city thing. Burn River or Trestre; unless I'm wrong, the two biggest cities in the South. And the government claims it's abolished all tribal customs. I think that's morally reprehensible, but I also thought it had succeeded."

  "Well, it hasn't. We remember. Not that it does anyone any good. Nobody can afford to care who you're related to. We're all too poor. Maybe if you try for a job and the line boss is the same clan as you, he can put in a good word, but the guy doing the hiring is going to be white, and he probably hates taking advice from natives. Only reason to give a damn what blood you're from is pride and stubbornness."

  He finished wrapping the second braid and turned around, and suddenly he was a different person entirely. Still dangerous, but somehow nobler. Not a criminal but a warrior. "In Iavaiah, lineage passes through the mother. Mine may have been a whore, but she was born Tama'ankan.

  Green Sky. Sun-Eater. And she might have called me Kieran Trevarde, but it isn't my name."

  Ash swallowed hard, not sure what any of this meant. "What is it? Your name?"

  Kieran hesitated, shook his head. "Outside. I'll tell you outside. When we get out of this place.

  Not before."

  "Oh."

  Then Kieran put his newly sleeveless shirt back on, and grinned, and was just himself with a new hairstyle. "You look stupidly impressed. Like I'm about to paint my face yellow and slaughter all the guards."

  "I'm wondering what you're up to. You don't do anything just for the hell of it."

  "What you said about the tribes being abolished -- that means if I walked down Water Street with my hair like this, I'd be wearing five new stripes on my back by sunset. Ten for a repeat, and they shave your head. So it kind of strikes me funny that short hair is the fashion where you come from. Down south, it means you were a dumbass and got flogged twice."

  "And you want to find out if they'll do that here."

  "Yeah."

  "And you're going to keep me sane?"

  "Well, I kind of get the impression that the normal rules don't apply here. Could be useful to know just what kind of shit they let you get away with. See, I figure --" He paused. "Did you hear that?"

  "Hear what?"

  "Ssh." Kieran held his hand up for silence.

  Ash listened, but heard only the same noises he'd been hearing before. People talking, coughing, moving around. The click of guards' footsteps and the creak of someone's bed.

  Then, beneath that, gently at first but rising, there came a thin whistling from above, which was joined by a rattling sound.

  "Yeah," said Kieran, quietly but with deep satisfaction.

  "What is it?"

  "The sound of spring, my friend."

  "What is?"

  "Thunderstorm."

  Ash went to the bars and looked up. The light looked no different. The skylights were too far and filthy for him to tell whether rain was falling. But the thought of rain made him sad. "It isn't fair,"

  he muttered.

  "Damn straight," Kieran replied automatically. "What's not fair?"

  "That's why we're confined to quarters today? A little rain?"

  "Never seen a storm down here, have you? There's no such thing as a little rain. Not this time of year. It comes down in bathtubs. Wind takes the roof off your house, then hail beats the crap out of you, then a tornado rips your arms off. Oh, and then there's the flash floods."

  "I see." Ash peered harder at the skylights. "Is that wind I'm hearing? Hey, what if it takes the roof off this place?"

  Kieran made a snorting noise, but came up behind him and examined the skylights. "Have to be some storm. We're underground. Only about the top yard of these walls is actually built, the rest looks dug out. And if we didn't get killed by falling glass and shit, we'd still be behind these bars with guards everywhere. See that slit window over there? That's a gun post." He paused. "But I bet I could climb that wall."

  "That one? To the roof?"

  "See that metal box on the end? I think that's the thingy that opens all the cells on the tier, in the morning."

  "Hey, if we did that, then in the chaos --"

  Kieran sighed, his breath stirring the hair on the back of Ash's neck, raising shivers. "I can think of worse ways to die."

  All at once, the light went strange. Ash cleaned his glasses on his cuff and looked again. "That thing you said about a green sky..."

  "Means hail. Tornadoes sometimes. A bad storm for sure."

  "That's what color your eyes are. Storm green."

  Kieran moved from behind him to beside him, and stared down solemn-faced. Stared long enough that Ash began to feel a fizzing in his blood, paralyzed and wanting. He couldn't breathe.

  He was afraid even to blink, lest Kieran realize what this looked like, and stop. If they hadn't been standing right at the front of the cell for everyone to see... Ashleigh twitched with surprise when his fingertips brushed the warmth of Kieran's arm, because he hadn't meant to move.

  Kieran's lips thinned and he turned away. "Whatever. Wake me if the sky falls." He flung himself across his cot, face to the wall.

  Shame rushed in where anticipation had been. What the hell did I think I was going to do, just now? I gave myself away for nothing. Ash leaned his forehead on the bars. Above, wind shook the skylights in their frames. It grew darker and darker. The rattling sound stopped and started again, grew loud, then faded to a steady clatter. Gradually the darkness abated. Some time later, sunlight came back in a rush, bright through the newly washed glass.

  That was when Ash noticed that the gun post above the second tier opposite was deserted. There were two guards on the floor, as usual, but no one up above. Surely Kieran could take two guards, if they were close together, and didn't get a lucky shot.

  Then the two of them could climb the wall up to the barred skylights, and hang there looking like idiots.

  Chapter 5

  "What, are you supposed to be Tama now?"

  Duyam Sona had blocked their path to their table, and was doing a fairly convincing disdainful sneer. Kieran handed off his tray to Ash, just in case, but didn't bother replying. He just cocked an eyebrow and waited.

  "You're a disgrace to your tribe, if you even have one."

  "Tama'ankan," Kieran clarified mildly. "Sure I'm a bastard, but I knew my mother well enough.

  How about you? Let me guess -- Chamka?"

  "Tallgrass," said Sona haughtily.

  "Figures. Think you're better than the rest of us 'cause you got to keep your ranges, then you come into town begging for handouts the first time the rains fail. Well, in your case, I guess you got a job -- will you fucking quit?" This last because he had to block a halfhearted punch. "Kaiyo bastard."

  "You're the one who's crazy. Walking around looking like that. You know what happens when you cross the line around here?"

  "Tell me."

  "Vivisection."

  "Fun."

  "Yeah, laugh it off, crowbait. You'll be screaming soon enough. And then your bumboy's anybody's meat."

  It actually required a bit of effort not to react to that. He turned to Ash. "Is that what people were saying when they were talking shit to you?"

  "Um. Pretty much." Ash was blushing again. He'd have to learn to control that sometime soon.

  "You care if they think it's true?"

  "Not really."

  "Hey, Tama, I'm talking to you!" Sona gave him a shove.

  Kieran considered his options. It would be easy enough to wreck Sona's day, but the food was getting cold. "All right. You're talking to me. Why?"

  "Because." That seemed to stump him a bit. "I'm just warning you."

  "I appreciate it," said Kieran solemnly.

/>   With a snarl, Sona turned on his heel and stalked back to his breakfast.

  Ash made an exasperated noise as they sat down to their own ugly food. "What is up with that guy?"

  "You're the empath. You tell me."

  "I can't. I mean, you did kill his brother, you admit it, so of course --"

  "They didn't like each other. It's not like it hurt him personally."

  "Yeah, but family is family, right?"

  "I wouldn't know."

  "Oh. Well, I don't have anybody but my aunt, but if someone murdered her and I let it slide, I'd hate myself forever."

  "You like her?"

  "Kieran, it doesn't matter. I mean, yes, I do, but even if I didn't -- this is a tangent. What I'm saying is, he should feel like it's his duty to take revenge on you. What I can't f igure out is why he doesn't just do it, like you said the other day. The way he keeps baiting you, it's like he wants something else. I can't figure it out."

  Kieran shrugged. "Me neither. Eat your slop."

  Ash stirred his oatmeal, watched the congealing mess plop off his spoon a few times. "Maybe I should talk to him."

  "You?" But after a moment's thought, Kieran realized it might not be such a bad idea. "Okay. Do it."

  So when they were all turned out to pasture, Kieran stayed by the wall and Ash wandered over by Sona alone. Kieran was surprised to see that Ash was the taller of the two, by two or three inches. The pale boy acted so small, Kieran had gotten into the habit of thinking of him as little.

  The truth was that he was taller than most of the others in the yard. Not the thinnest, either; Kieran himself probably looked about that skinny with his clothes on. It was Ash's whiteness that made him look so fragile, and the little-kid freckles, and the glasses. He was the epitome of the kid the whole neighborhood picked on. Kieran wondered if he'd keep that wimpy look all his life

  -- then reminded himself that neither of them were likely to live long enough for it to matter.

  Ash didn't seem to be having any trouble handling Duyam Sona. They were just talking. Sona looked angry, but then he always did. He was making tight, sharp gestures with his hands. Ash had his head tilted like a kitten. That's it, kid. Be cute and harmless, and no one will have the heart to --

  Wrong. Just as that thought went through Kieran's head, Sona snatched the spectacles off Ash's face, threw them down, and stepped on them.

  Then he looked straight at Kieran.

  "Fine." Kieran pushed himself away from the wall. "It's your funeral."

  Sona gave a sickly smile, watching Kieran come at him. With a deliberate, contemptuous gesture, he lashed out and backhanded Ash across the face, knocking the white boy sprawling.

  The world abruptly shook itself into a new focus; a cold, tense state where the colors were washed out and the air tasted of metal. Sona ceased to be a person, became an offending object which must be broken down until it vanished. Options for achieving this flashed through Kieran's head with tight clarity. All the mobile obstacles in the yard scattered out of his path.

  All but one. One of them got in front of him, mouthing noises at him. He grabbed its head to throw it aside. But the skin of his palm remembered this texture, and it yanked perspective back into him with a painful shock. For the space of one breath he was holding himself together on the verge of going feral, shredding everyone within reach.

  Then he smoothed down Ash's hair where he'd disarranged it, and Ash's words began to be a language he could understand.

  "-- what he wants, you can see that, I know you can, just walk away Kieran please you don't have to prove anything --"

  "Hush," Kieran said, and Ash did. The relief in the sagging of those narrow shoulders, in the dimming of those sky-colored eyes, made Kieran ashamed. He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't shaking, but a vibration in his nerves told him he might begin any minute now. Sona, beyond Ash's blocking body, was visibly trembling; awkward, as if he'd forgotten his lines. All the faces on the periphery were round-eyed, skittish like horses. Only Ash wasn't afraid. Why wasn't he? Kieran almost hadn't recognized him -- and he shouldn't have assumed that he was immune, whether recognized or not.

  "I figured it out," Ash said. "What he wants. He wants to die, Kieran."

  Kieran tested his voice. It came out too deep, but smooth and calm. "I gathered that."

  "No, I mean it's a plan. He wants you to kill him." His voice dropped to a whisper. "For which the guards will probably shoot you."

  "Clever," Kieran said. He raised his voice so Sona could hear. "But you're going to have to wait until I'm suicidal too. Until then, every time you lay a finger on Ash, I will break that finger. My guess is the Watch don't mind what shape your hands are in."

  Sona's face contorted. He gave an incoherent bellow and rushed at Kieran, swinging wild, all pretense at skill gone. Kieran stepped out of his path and tripped him.

  "Give it up, Sona. You're making us all tired."

  "Just wait." Sona got as far as his knees and stayed there, head hanging, fists clenched in his lap.

  "You wait. You may think you're used to shame, but you don't know anything yet."

  "Coward." Kieran picked up the remains of Ash's glasses. They were ruined, both lenses smashed, wire frame twisted. He dropped the useless thing in front of Sona. "Maybe you can slit your wrists with the pieces. Inayaju. You make me sick. Remember to cut up, not across." Then he took Ash's arm and hauled him away.

  "That was cruel," Ash said when they were out of earshot. "Kieran, that was outright cruel."

  Kieran spat on the ground. "You don't understand. He's not just a coward, he's a blasphemer. A hypocrite. See, if all he wanted was to commit suicide, there are plenty of ways around here.

  Spoon knife. Pants noose. Hell, you can bang your head against the wall if you get really desperate. But that's not good enough for him. He thinks he's a heriye, a noble knight, he wants to go down in battle. 'Cause we Iavaians have more Hells than you folks do, and suicides go to the basement." He spat again. "Inayaju kamon."

  "What's that mean?"

  "I don't know how to translate it. Crybaby, sniveler. Somebody who spends all his time bitching about his problems instead of solving them. What about you, aren't you pissed? He broke your glasses."

  "I'm just a little nearsighted. It's not as if I'll need to read street signs or anything. I can see well enough not to run into walls."

  Kieran noticed a smear of blood on Ash's lip. Without thinking, he reached out and wiped it away with his thumb. He immediately regretted the gesture -- because of how it had probably looked to everyone else, and because Ash's sharp inhalation and dilated eyes were going to stick in his mind and bother him when he was trying to sleep.

  He glanced at Sona, to remind himself he was angry. "He's not forgiven."

  "I just think, if we let ourselves get worked up, we'll end up like that --" Ash aimed a thumb in Sona's direction -- "sooner than if we keep our heads."

  "You might be right." Kieran turned abruptly away from Sona's kneeling form, suddenly worried that anguish might be contagious. "Well, that was embarrassing. Let's pretend it never happened."

  "Let's pretend we're fishing in Helermont Bay, while we're at it." Ash returned with a lopsided grin.

  --==*==--

  "Kieran Trevarde." The cell unlocked with a clank. "Get your ass out here."

  "I'm getting to really hate hearing my last name," Kieran grumbled as he obeyed. He glanced back to see Ash looking apprehensive, gnawing his lip. Kieran gave him a bitter smile on the way out.

  This time, as he was marched to the tunnel, he examined the features of the place as he passed them. The walls were clad in glazed brick to about eight feet up, but above that was bare stone, rough enough to climb, at least if you were a halfway decent climber. If he could get on top of the door-opening mechanism... then he'd be shot, and if he found some way to avoid that, the skylights had bars on them.

  Well, there were two ways to look at that thought. It might be better to consider i
t one out of three obstacles potentially defeated. Two out of four if he counted the fact that these two guards with their guns were standing way too close to him. He could deal with them any time he wanted.

  It was the same tunnel they took him into, the same stairs up, so Kieran was disoriented when they came to a turning that hadn't been there before. The hall should've gone straight to the door of Warren's little white room. Instead, it curved right, bringing them to a short cross-passage with a door at one end.