“We just need to reach safe port, and you’ll never see us again,” she said, still holding up her hand in supplication. “I just want to get away from Solaria, that’s all.”
The man looked her up and down and managed to hold both her eyes prisoner with his one. Beside him, the woman named Travis did not lower her gaze or her contempt. “What did you do, anyway, girl?”
She shrugged and gave a weak smile. “I owned a flower shop and paid my taxes.”
The man stared a moment longer and then, to Layela’s relief, he began laughing. “That sounds downright criminal!” He sobered for a moment and looked at Travis. “It sounds about right, though.”
Layela took a small step forward, and didn’t have to fake the despair in her voice. “Then will you please help us?”
Travis locked eyes with Josmere for the first time, as though seeking some admission of guilt in the green eyes. “I swear,” Josmere said, meeting the woman’s gaze. “The Berganda were never involved in the ether wars. And,” she added in a whisper, “I’m sure you’ve heard that our powers are dwindling. I’m hardly a threat to you.”
Travis broke a little smile. “I had heard that rumour, and I call it justice.” Josmere’s hands became fists, but she made no move forward.
The man put his hand on Travis’ shoulder, as though holding her back. “You’re welcome to stay, but down here, in the shuttle bay. We’re heading to Crast and Thalos IV.”
Josmere’s eyes grew wide for just a second and she looked at Layela.
“We’ll get off at Crast,” the Berganda said. “It’s closer anyhow, and less of an imposition on you.” Layela had barely the time to register the implications. Crast was a quiet planet, mostly pigpens, slaughterhouses and air freshener factories. Or Thalos IV. She felt a shiver spread from her spine to her toes and the roots of her hair. Layela had left there vowing never to return.
And yet...Crast didn’t seem right. Thalos IV. Thalos IV.
A gentle pull toyed with her heartstrings. Thalos IV.
She put her hand on Josmere’s arm. “I think I’d like to see Thalos IV.” Josmere’s eyes grew wide. “It seems a more...lively planet.” Josmere held her eyes a second longer, as though searching for a flicker of Layela herself.
“We may meet some old friends, too.” She turned towards the crew again. Layela nodded. Old friends, as in the Dark Knights, the best information network for illegal activities on Thalos IV. If they could find them. It had been a few years, and such systems had a tendency to vanish overnight.
“Crast might be safer,” the man said slowly. “Thalos IV is at the edge of Solarian territory. Crast is less...political, and out of your hunter’s reach.”
Layela gave a thin smile. It wasn’t just the colonel she had to worry about, but she wasn’t about to tell him that and get kicked off the ship.
“Which channels are advertising my wanted status?” she asked.
“Military.” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, so we still scan those channels. Someone important is pushing to have it released to the public, but there is opposition to putting a price on your head. Lack of funding.” He gave a wry smile.
She nodded. “Thalos IV might be safe, then. Thank you for the information,” she hesitated, and then added, “and for your kindness.”
“Just never mention our encounter, and I’ll make sure never to mention you,” the man said and turned on his heels, Travis not far behind after casting a warning look at Josmere. Within seconds Josmere and Layela were alone in the cold shuttle bay.
Thalos IV. Layela wished she knew exactly why it felt so necessary to head to that planet, yet she knew any other decision would be foolish. And she knew she would be fine, because the root of her nightmares, the Kilita with his glowing orange eyes, wasn’t currently there.
He was behind them somewhere, perhaps hunting them still.
Layela was sitting in the shuttle, her eyes closed, trying to recall any thread of her visions. And trying to understand her need to return to Thalos IV. She was cold — the ship barely heated its shuttle bay — and bored out of her mind. In almost five hours, she’d had no success.
Josmere had been exploring the large shuttle bay for the past few hours, and Layela suspected the Berganda was avoiding her so that Layela couldn’t press her to show her the vision.
She jumped as a voice boomed over the intercom. “Prepare for arrival at Thalos IV Veruvian docks.”
The Veruvian docks, located in the city of Veruvia, could not have been a better place to land. Josmere’s family lived there. Layela hoped they could stay at her family’s home, although she had never seen it herself. Josmere had only mentioned it in passing, and she suspected the Berganda had run away. She hoped they would be welcomed nonetheless.
The city was also exactly half a planet away from the Solarian embassy. Layela stretched and stood up, walking towards the small viewing port by the bay’s control stations.
The ship slowed out of light speed, the stars no longer stretched around them. The Thalonian system leapt into view, and nostalgia clutched Layela’s heart.
Two stars held the system together. A huge white Super Giant was orbited by a much smaller yellow sun, the two sometimes so close that their solar flares slammed into each other, and for a few moments the stars seemed linked, like one. The first five planets of the solar system were too close to the suns to bear life on their hot and radiation-filled landscapes.
Thalos I was the farthest from the suns, a simple mining community with little atmosphere and protection from the thinner radiation. It was used by the royalty as a prison planet. Its orbit was far past the two suns now, not even a flicker in their sky.
Thalos II was so small that people had argued whether it was a planet or a planetoid, until the royalty of Thalos III declared it to be a planet, simply because they wanted to retain the “Three” in their own name — a sign that the Three Fates were with them.
Thalos III was filled with royalty — brimming, actually, with more intrigue, adultery and regicide than any other known planet. It was the last of the governments to have signed a treaty with Solari, but it was a fragile peace, held together only by plea bargains and pay-offs.
Thalos IV loomed before them. The cruiser entered its thick atmosphere, fires flying off the shields. This planet did not have the best reputation, but it had been home once. Though its petty crimes were no match for the sins of the Thalonian royalty, it had a much worse reputation.
Fewer riches, I guess. Layela was surprised to smile at the thought of returning to the one planet she and her sister had spent the most time on. And, for once, she didn’t have to worry about what might be waiting for her.
Although she continued to worry about what was pursuing her, she doubted anyone would find her here, at the fringes of Solarian space. Not for a time, anyway. Maybe she would have enough time to convince Josmere to unlock her vision, so that she could plan her next move.
15
Still smells the same,” Josmere mumbled as they broke free from the merchants littered around the Veruvian docks. Once landed, the shuttle bay had merely opened with no ceremony, leaving Josmere and Layela with little choice but to exit. Layela supposed it was better to get rid of the shuttle, anyway. The more trails they left to follow, the longer it would take for anyone to find them.
“Meat for sale! Good price!” a man shouted right beside Layela. She attributed most of the smell to his rather green slabs of meat.
The houses boasted two stories at most. The city had grown around the docks, which had been situated at the furthest point from the royal mansion, two hundred years ago. Then the royalty had taken over Thalos III and its new chemically generated atmosphere, and had moved there, abandoning their old royal mansion to the Solarian ambassador. The ambassador had died soon after, prey to a booby-trap. The trap was suspected to have been left there by the brother of the king, who had himself succumbed to a bad batch of wine the previous day.
Relations with Solari had
been tense ever since.
“At least it’s not far, right?” Layela said as she sidestepped some running children. Josmere still blocked her nose and kept her head high. A few locals stared openly at her.
Layela guessed it had been a while since they had seen a Berganda in these parts, though many lived here just a few years ago — despite the ramifications of the ether wars — and for centuries before that.
“I never thought I’d come back,” Josmere whispered as she stopped in front of two large gates, ivy clinging to each metal bar.
“Is this it?” Layela asked, looking at the imposing gates. She had never thought that Josmere came from a well-to-do family, but to own so much land in Veruvia, one had to have riches.
Josmere didn’t reply, putting her hand on the gate and closing her eyes for a moment. The old metal shuddered, and the vines shifted, pulling the gates open for them. Layela held her breath. She knew a lot about plants, but never knew these vines to be mobile.
“The longer a plant stays with Berganda,” Josmere offered as way of explanation, “the more sentient it becomes.”
Layela stared at Josmere, and the Berganda gave her a crooked smile before walking through the gates. Seeing Josmere walk away from her, with no one watching her back, Layela felt her knees buckle and her pulse race. She swallowed hard and quickly followed, her breath short and ragged. Sweat broke across her forehead and down her back, despite the temperate day. Perhaps coming to Thalos IV hadn’t been such a great idea.
No sooner had she crossed the threshold then the vines slackened and the doors closed behind them.
Layela stumbled as she caught up with Josmere, intent on ridding her mind of the memories threatening to rampage. “How long do plants have to stay in contact with Berganda before gaining those abilities?” she asked between breaths.
“Too long for you to see it happen in your lifetime,” Josmere answered.
“Oh.”
Josmere smiled. They walked up a small hill, grass and wildflowers spread generously, no path breaking the colours. Layela felt guilty stepping on the generous plants.
“I’ve never seen any of these plants on this world before, and I don’t even recognize most of them,” Layela said, crouching to look more closely at some yellow flowers lined with burgundy. She wished Josmere felt more talkative, but was glad that at least the flowers gave her something on which to concentrate.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Josmere said. Layela stood, following Josmere’s pointing arm. The hill was flat, and only grass covered it. There was no structure there, or at least none that Layela recognized.
“Josmere, what…” she began to ask, but the Berganda motioned for her to join her. Layela did, standing beside her, still seeing nothing. The flowers ended just a step before them.
“Don’t tell me you’ve flipped,” Layela asked softly.
Josmere laughed and took Layela’s hand, pulling her forward as she stepped onto the plain grass. Layela felt something tingle on her skin and her mind reeled.
A second ago, it had been nothing but an empty field, but before her now was a forest a few acres wide. Flowers littered the fields leading to it and even the floor of the forest itself, as though the trees had chosen to let the sunlight through for the deep purple and red blooms. She strained her eyes and, as far as she could see, there was life: flowers, birds, even the leaves danced on a gentle breeze. A brook pooled into a small lake right before the forest, a variety of vivid orange, sunny yellow and unbelievably blue flowers lining its shores.
Layela took a deep breath infused with wild and soft perfumes. She turned to Josmere. The woman looked upon this beauty sadly; even her hair seemed more disturbed than pleased by the gentle breeze, jumping and bouncing instead of swaying.
“Why would you ever leave a place like this?” Layela whispered.
Josmere furrowed her brow, as though she might be trying to remember the reason, herself.
“Come,” she finally said, pulling off her boots. Her long legs glided through the uncut grass. “It’s time I show you my home.” The darkness in her face rivalled the beauty of the surrounding blooms.
The home of the Berganda rested in the forest, the wooden structure matching the surrounding trees. Layela couldn’t help but wonder if the trees had formed it themselves. She wanted to ask Josmere a thousand questions, but her friend’s sombre mood stilled her anxious tongue.
There was no door to the house, only an oval entryway, which Josmere crossed without announcing herself. Layela felt uncomfortable simply barging into Josmere’s family home and hesitated before entering.
“It’s all right, Layela,” Josmere said, noticing her friend’s hesitation. Layela crossed the threshold and found the inside of the house simple, but elegant. Grass formed the carpet, but no flowers bloomed, nor did any insects skip about. Other walls and corridors led to other rooms, and Layela realized the house might be much bigger than she had originally thought.
This room had no roof, only the leaves of the trees reaching above them, but other rooms seemed to have ceilings, as well as floors.
“Are you hungry?” Josmere asked, as though obliged to.
Layela shook her head slowly. Something else had struck her about this house: the silence. “Josmere, where is your family?”
The Berganda looked away for a moment, toward the back rooms, as though expecting some of them to walk out at any moment — or, perhaps, remembering laughter that no longer resonated down these halls.
“It’s been a long time, Layela,” Josmere said slowly. “But when I left, only two of my aunts lived, both very old. Their names were Milkata and Klomar. I have felt them pass, since.”
“I’m so sorry, Josmere,” Layela whispered.
Josmere shrugged. “It happens, sooner to Bergandas than to humans,” she said, taking Layela by surprise. She had always believed Bergandas lived longer than humans. But now did not seem like a good time to ask more, as Josmere seemed faced with a part of her mortality she had hoped to leave behind. Layela understood all too well. She had left more of her mortality on Thalos IV than anywhere else, and firmly believed she would never lose more of it, not even at the place of her death.
“I’m exhausted,” Josmere said, offering a small, apologetic smile to Layela, as though the Berganda realized she had so many answers Layela sought, but could not give her any. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Two corridors later, Layela decided the mansion was definitely bigger than she had originally anticipated, and built more like a maze than a dwelling. Layela was beginning to understand why Berganda were gifted with an easy sense of place, and a “ten-second” gift.
Five more turns, and after Layela knew she had no hope of ever finding her way out again, Josmere showed her a small, comfortable room, complete with a bed and small desk. The bedding was already on the bed, looking as fresh as if just laid out. She looked inquiringly at Josmere.
Her friend gave her another wry smile. “It’s best you think of this place like the Berganda. It doesn’t change, doesn’t grow old.” In a whisper, she added, “All but the important parts.”
She was gone before Layela could ask another question. She dared not try to follow, for fear of spending all night wandering lost in the house.
The sun was setting, and the forest cast large, eerie shadows around the mansion. Layela could see them clearly through the large, glassless window in her room.
With little to do, Layela laid down on the soft bed. The smell of lilac surrounded her as her mind wandered from blooms to Berganda, ships to pirates, sisters to assassins.
She wondered how powerful the Berganda must have once been, to create this perfectly controlled natural space. The perfect home for plant people.
She sighed, feeling the first webs of sleep creeping upon her. Her last waking thought was the wish that she remember her vision upon waking, or that it not visit her at all.
Layela woke up with a start, sweat drenching her body even though th
e air felt cool. Her hands were shaking, and her tongue felt thick and dry. Had she cried out in her sleep? Had Yoma left because she knew Layela had seen the same vision, but wouldn’t remember it with her waking mind?
“Enough!” Layela uttered, slipping on her boots and walking out of the room as the last threads of darkness slipped from her mind. They were as silken as any intricate spider web, and just as transparent.
She turned in the direction Josmere had taken, hoping her instincts would guide her. She took a few twists and turns, not entering any of the few side rooms, simply following the path the corridors seemed to place at her feet. Thankfully she didn’t have to rely on instincts: the corridor took many turns, but never split off.
Another turn led her into a hallway fully made of stone. Vines crept along the stone, snuggling comfortably where the sunlight would stream through the nonexistent roof. Before her was not another door, nor another corridor, but open space. It looked like a wide courtyard, wild with plants. Layela entered it cautiously.
Noticing that she was beginning to crouch defensively, Layela straightened and continued walking slowly. She was a guest here, and did not intend to sneak around rudely.
This is Josmere’s home, she reminded herself firmly as the urge to blend in with her surroundings struck again.
Trees towered over the courtyard, their leafless branches like spider legs thrusting in all directions, casting sparse yet eerie night shadows around her, though she could see neither of Thalos IV’s two moons in the sky above. The ground was covered with plants, all wild and overgrown; most of them, Layela guessed, weeds. The green of the weeds and the brown remnants of ancient plants acted as silent unmoving sentinels around the few unkempt stony trails. There were no flowers in bloom.
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