The Daughter of the Sea and the Sky

by David Litwack

  That version would vanish like a ghost. Poof and she’d be gone, despite all their reason.

  She startled to a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Kailani pressing a finger to her lips. Her own lips parted, but at the child’s urging, she stayed silent. Then the finger curled into a gesture of beckoning. Helena rolled onto one side and stood. Her feet were bare, and the ground rocky and uneven. It scraped at her toes and the edges of her heels as she let Kailani lead her to the far side of the clearing.

  “I could tell you weren’t asleep,” Kailani whispered, “and I didn’t want to wake Jason.”

  The child shivered, so Helena fetched a blanket and wrapped it around her.

  “Were you having trouble sleeping like me?” she said.

  “Uh-huh. I kept praying for the Spirit to tell me whether to go or not, but on this night, of all nights, the Spirit was silent.”

  “Oh, Kailani, you have to go. If you stay, it’s back to the cell.”

  “But what will happen when we get there?”

  “We’ll be together, you and me and Jason.”

  “What about the sea and the sky?”

  Helena gave her a piercing look. “If there’s a better place for you to go, we’ll take you there. If not, we’ll settle in together.”

  “Helena?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think they’ve forgiven me?”

  “Who?”

  “The sea and the sky.”

  Helena gazed at Kailani, the picture of innocence. “Why wouldn’t they forgive you?”

  “Because I haven’t completed my penance yet. Mr. Benjamin said I needed to do penance for a long time, maybe for the rest of my life.”

  “Mr. Benjamin!” Helena blurted out, almost loud enough to wake Jason. “Forget what he said. All he cares about is what’s right for Mr. Benjamin.”

  She knelt down so her knees nestled on the carpet of pine needles, and leaned in close enough to read Kailani’s eyes in the dim light. “If you need permission to end your penance, ask me. I’ll grant it to you. You’ve done enough already.”

  “But how will I know if I’m forgiven?” Her voice quivered, a mournful sound.

  How will I know if I’m forgiven? A question Helena might have asked herself.

  “I don’t know. You haven’t told us anything about the sea or the sky or what you’ve done to need forgiveness. But I do know that sometimes we take on more blame than we deserve, and it’s not for others to forgive us, but ourselves.”

  She waited for a response, but none came. She grasped Kailani by the arms. Almost lost in the blanket, she seemed not the daughter of the sea and the sky but a waif alone in a foreign land. Helena no longer cared whether the Spirit existed or not. There was only this poor, dear child weighed down by an unknown burden.

  She turned Kailani until a sliver of moonlight crept across her face. The pale light spread, revealing a flush that had blossomed on the child’s cheeks.

  And there it was, her expression plain to see, almost like Benjamin’s in the beam of the sentinel tree floodlights, but hers was not the look of an aspiring saint. Hers was the look of a child. It showed a different kind of longing, a simpler kind of hope.

  Kailani wanted to go home.

  Chapter 43 – A Scene from the Apocalypse

  Benjamin crouched in the brush, as he had so often when stalking a sad-eyed doe, but this time he hunted different prey. It had been a long night, and he’d used the time for prayer and reflection. In the wee hours of the morning, when the moon had set and the hint of sunlight had not yet shimmered through the trees, he was rewarded with a revelation.

  Judgment day was at hand.

  He could hear it in the pre-dawn with the woods coming alive, with the chattering of the birds and the rustling of a thousand leaves. He could see it, the universe beginning to converge, the stars above swirling in a giant spiral to form a new heaven, a home where only the faithful would be welcome. He could smell it on the breeze

  Now, at last, he understood the divine plan. He knew why, on those cold and dreary mornings, his father had dragged him out and schooled him in the art of hunting; why he’d been taught to track, to read broken twigs on a branch and scuff marks in the mud; why he’d learned the craft of concealment, to hide unnoticed even until kingdom come.

  Sure, he’d been burdened with adversity, his small stature, his offensive appearance, the high-pitched whine of his voice. He’d also been blessed with patience and an enduring faith, and something more—the ability to go for days without sleep.

  Now he spied on the stream. They’d have to come for water, and the one who woke first would come alone. He knew who she would be. Why? Because he’d branded the curse of penance on her heart—penance a lever on the soul. That unfulfilled responsibility would haunt her dreams.

  Things had been going well. For a time, the front lawn of the farm had been transformed into a morality play, good against evil, a scene from the apocalypse. Now it was nearing the final act.

  He startled to the sound of footsteps whispering through the pine needles, footsteps too light to be those of the nonbelievers.

  There she was, walking alone, a blanket draped around her shoulders, its fringes grazing the ground and brushing her bare feet. In her eyes, the pallor of a troubled sleep.

  She approached the stream, let the blanket fall to the ground, and knelt. She stayed still for a long time, staring at her reflection in the water.

  Now, to accost her without alerting the others.

  As she bent down to splash water on her face, a wind kicked up. With the rush of the stream and the gust of the wind, she’d never hear his approach.

  He slipped from the brush, moving stealthily, heel to toe as he’d been taught.

  She sensed his presence too late; he clapped a hand over her mouth and held her tight.

  “Daughter of the Sea and the Sky,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid. I come in the name of our Lord. I can help you, but you mustn’t wake the others. Promise to be quiet and I’ll release you. Nod if you understand.”

  He waited, measuring her heartbeat as it sped up and then calmed.

  Her body went limp, and she nodded.

  He let go.

  She turned and faced him. “Mr. Benjamin, you frightened me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I had no choice. The others would never understand.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “To take you back.”

  “But they’ll put me in the cell.”

  “No they won’t. I can protect you.”

  “We’re going to the Blessed Lands.”

  “You can’t go yet. It’s not time.”

  She drew in a breath. A momentary doubt clouded her face. “Helena told me my penance is done, that I can forgive myself.”

  “Forgive? Only the Lord can forgive.” His voice rose and he struggled to temper its tone. “I’ve had a vision from Lord Kanakunai himself, and He has appointed me master of your penance. You are blessed, Kailani, chosen to be the center of a new beginning, a reprieve for the world, but you must stay among the soulless until the apocalypse.”

  Her back stiffened, and she lifted her chin. “I won’t go with you.”

  “If you don’t, you’ll be denying your destiny.” He moved closer, close enough so she’d feel the heat of his breath. His voice became a hiss. “Your soul will be damned, condemned to wander for eternity.”

  She stared at him, the ocean-blue eyes narrowing. Slowly, she began to shake her head, speeding up until the golden hair swished about her shoulders. Then, before he could grab her, she slipped away and ran back down the trail.

  He watched her go, making no effort to follow. It must be the will of the Lord.

  So near the apocalypse. I’ll not be denied.

  Chapter 44 – The Asylum Gate

  Helena dreamed she was standing at the asylum gate, waiting to be admitted into the Blessed Lands. A high bench made of rosewood with angels carved into its center blocked h
er way. One of Kailani’s senkyosei, a withered old zealot with fierce eyes and his head covered by a hood the color of dirt, was judging her.

  In a booming voice that belied his size, the preacher kept asking the same question. “What right did you have to forgive the Daughter?”

  Each time she tried to answer, the beat of a drum—ka-thoom, ka-thoom—drowned out her words.

  The sound was curiously familiar. She glanced to her right and to her left, hoping to identify its source. Ka-thoom. It seemed to be coming from where she stood. She was breathing too fast and tried to calm herself—after all, it was only a dream. As her breathing slowed, the drumming slowed as well. Then she knew: the sound was the beating of her heart.

  Jason called her name, his voice distant and hollow as if coming through a tunnel. He wanted her to do something, to go someplace, but where? Then he touched her, stroking her arm.

  She opened her eyes and let them adjust to the light.

  Nearly dawn.

  As soon as the fog in her mind lifted, she checked on Kailani, but the spot where she’d slept was bare. Before Helena could ask the question, Jason gestured toward the entrance to the clearing.

  The child stood there, dressed and ready to go, clutching her pillowcase bundle to her chest and hugging herself. She seemed to be glaring at the horizon as if daring the future to come.

  “She’s been like that since I woke up,” Jason said. “No matter. It’s time for us to go.”

  He’d instructed them to pack the night before, all but the blankets and the clothes on their backs, so they were ready to go.

  With Jason in the lead, they bushwhacked to the trail and took off at a trot. He’d assured them it wasn’t far. Sure enough, in what seemed little more than a hundred strides, a break in the trees appeared.

  Beyond the trees the path lay exposed, a naked ribbon of earth leading to a wrought-iron gate. Words sculpted into the overhead arch read, “Leaving the Republic.” To the right of the gate was a two-story structure, where guards were barracked and refugees processed. Opposite the barracks and facing the gate stood the statue she’d seen on posters since childhood—a larger-than-life, robed woman perched on a ten-foot-high pedestal, her right hand holding a flaming torch high above her head—the Lady of Reason welcoming asylum seekers to their new life.

  Jason extended an arm and pointed, as he’d done that day on the ride to the farm, when he’d caught sight of the deer.

  Next to the gate stood a small guardhouse. A trooper slumped inside, awake but not fully alert.

  Helena took a deep breath, grasped Kailani by the hand, and took off.

  In the morning gloom, the guard didn’t immediately spot them emerging from the woods. But as soon as he saw them, he sounded the alarm.

  Now they were in full sprint, tossing stealth to the winds.

  Thirty yards to go....

  The guard had taken too long to alert the others, precious seconds lost.

  Twenty yards....

  He quickly regrouped.

  Ten....

  Jason swerved suddenly and shoved the startled guard out of the way. They were almost to the gate.

  Kailani stumbled and fell.

  Helena cried out to Jason, who pivoted and swept the girl up with one arm, barely breaking stride. The troops from the barracks were on their heels.

  And then they were through.

  As they paused to admire what they’d accomplished, they were startled to see a squad of troopers hidden behind the fence on what was supposed to be neutral ground. Instantly, they were surrounded.

  “Asylum!” Helena cried.

  The commander moved forward from behind his men. He was unarmed, and his face bore a look not of combat but of concern.

  He held out a hand. “Come with me, please.”

  “But you can’t arrest us. We’re inside the gate.”

  He smiled. “You’re not under arrest, Ms. Brewster. Someone wants to speak with you. That’s all.”

  He stepped aside and waved for them to pass.

  The cordon of troopers parted. Behind them, previously hidden by the bulk of the armored men, stood Sebastian and Carlson.

  ***

  “We made a terrible mistake,” Sebastian said.

  Jason glared at the managing director, then shifted his ire to Carlson, who was lining up paperclips he’d discovered on the military-issue desk.

  When he noticed Jason’s glare, he withdrew his hand and winced. “The department and its secrecy,” he said. “When they refused to tell me anything, I assumed the worst. Given the photogram and all the preaching she’d done, a return to incarceration seemed like the logical conclusion. Fifty-two years of bad blood will do that to you. Perhaps we’re not as rational as we think.”

  Jason glanced around the commander’s office, a small room with little space for much more than the desk and some chairs. At the commander’s insistence, he’d been seated in the big chair behind the desk—a peace offering, he presumed. The other two sat opposite him on canvas folding chairs, under orders from the commander to apologize and explain. Both began speaking at once, and his weary mind tried to follow. Fragments of phrases filtered through.

  “A high-ranking zealot. Claims Kailani’s a person of importance to the Blessed Lands. Moved heaven and earth to get her back.”

  His mind began to clear, though what they said made little sense.

  “Unprecedented diplomacy. Supreme Leader to President.”

  Kailani, the object of this international intrigue, huddled with Helena in the commander’s quarters next door. They needed answers, to understand the department’s intentions without alarming the child further, and Helena had volunteered to stay with her while he found out more.

  He stared at the naked light bulb above the desk and tried to put his fears into words. “A person of importance. Is that good or bad? How do we know what the zealots will do with her? How can we be sure they won’t use her like Benjamin did?”

  “The secretary has guaranteed her safety,” Carlson said.

  “But how do we know we can trust him? How do we know what deals he’s made at Kailani’s expense?”

  “Be reasonable,” Sebastian said. “After this mess we’ve made—” He waved his arm broadly as if to encompass the land bridge, the military encampment, and all that had transpired on the farm. “—you think he’d lie to us?”

  Jason refused to back down. Sebastian had been wrong about Benjamin; he could be wrong again. “Kailani ran away for a reason.”

  “Why not ask her?” Carlson said.

  “No. Thanks to you, she’s too frightened to tell us anything.”

  “They could just take her.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Then what do you propose?”

  Jason wanted to stomp out of the room and leave the two behind, but with so much at stake, he needed to think it through, to be reasonable one last time.

  He fixed his eyes on Carlson. “Let me meet with this high-ranking zealot.”

  Carlson’s hands shook, making the paperclips flee in disarray. “Do you realize what you’re asking? It would be like requesting an audience with the secretary himself.”

  “We could be risking Kailani’s life. Do you trust him that much?”

  “I... don’t know.” Carlson abandoned the paperclips and faced him. “They haven’t let me near him.”

  “Then how do you expect me to trust him?”

  “Because you have no choice. The secretary’s frustrated enough. One more delay and he’ll have the troops drag her off screaming.”

  Jason looked from Carlson to Sebastian. The muscles of his jaw stiffened. “No meeting, no Kailani.”

  Carlson heaved a sigh and rose to go. “I’ll ask, but I make no promises.”

  Jason followed him out the door and watched him navigate the narrow corridor to make the call. After he was out of sight, Jason turned to find Sebastian regarding him with concern.

  “Are you sure you know what you�
��re doing?” Sebastian said.

  “I’m sure.”

  “At some point, you’re going to have to take a leap of faith. This whole reason thing is overrated. You may never know the truth.”

  “I’ll know.”

  “What we see as sincerity may be something different for zealots. Even if this so-called minister swears on his immortal soul that he’ll treat her well, how can you be sure? Even Benjamin would claim he had her best interests at heart.”

  As usual, Sebastian was being too analytical. The pragmatism that had made them kindred spirits was useless now.

  Jason smiled for the first time that day, as if he’d discovered something new about himself. “I’ll know. I have no idea how, but I’ll know.”

  Five minutes later, Carlson returned. “The meeting’s been approved.”

  Jason relaxed, but tensed again when the chief examiner had more to say.

  “But to get this meeting, I had to agree to their terms. The secretary feels the minister will lose face otherwise.”

  Sebastian arched his brows. “What does that mean?”

  “It means no more sneaking around. No dirt roads in a field or trails through the woods. It means a formal ceremony for the whole world to see, press and all, and it has to take place before sunset.”

  “And if not?” Sebastian said.

  “If not?” The chief examiner’s face contorted in pain. “Then they’ll take her by force, Jason and Helena will go to prison for obstruction, and your farm will be shut down for good.”

  Chapter 45 – A Meeting of Worlds

  The commander had granted Jason ten minutes to brief Helena so she’d have time to prepare Kailani for the handoff. He sat across from her, their knees touching as he explained the plan. He assured her he’d return with proof of the zealot’s intent, and stressed the need to act before something dire happened.