“That’s not all. I kept watching, and it was almost first light when something else happened. The little star parted from Gal again and went back in the direction it had come, but this time, instead of vanishing beyond the horizon, it started going faster and getting brighter, until it formed a tail. I heard thunder, like a storm was coming in, but there were no clouds. Then…”
Again, Kaile looked away, but this time not at the sky, but to the west. “It came down over there,” she said softly, and when Sanjay followed her gaze, he saw that she was staring at the distant grey line that marked the shores of Cape Exile.
“Purgatory?” He could scarcely believe her. “Are you sure?”
Kaile glared at him. “Of course I’m sure!” she snapped, her voice rising a little as she swam back from him. “I’m telling you, I saw what I…!”
She stopped herself. Like Sanjay, she remembered that this was exactly what Aara had said when she’d defended herself before the deacons. And Sanjay had spent enough time in the tower himself to know that the view of Cape Exile from up there was excellent. Save for the high cliffs of Stone Bluff to the north and the summits of Mt. Lookout and Mt. Roundtop in the island’s forest interior, there was no higher vantage point on Providence. Indeed, it was whispered among islanders that, from these places on clear nights, one could see faint, glimmering lights on the mainland, a sign that at least some of those who’d been banished there still lived, struggling to survive in the terrible place from which Gal had rescued her most devout followers.
“I believe you,” he said quietly, and paddled closer to her again. “It sounds like you saw the same thing my mother did. Something like it, at least.”
“No. That was more than what Aara saw.” Glancing past him, she returned her fores to his shoulders once more. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Ramos is watching.”
Again, their mouths came together. This time, though, Sanjay took little pleasure from it. He was thinking about something else. “Have you told anyone?” he said softly, his face against her wet hair.
“No.” She sighed, and despite the warmth of the water, Sanjay felt her tremble. “After what happened to Aara, how could I?”
“No, of course not.” As obedient to Gal as Kaile was, it would have been mad to repeat Aara’s mistake. Deacon R’beca wouldn’t have given any more credence to a second act of blasphemy than she had the first. He found himself wondering whether anyone else who’d recently stood watch might have seen the same thing Kaile did, but had likewise remained silent about it, for fear of following Aara Arkwright into exile. But if there had been any similar sightings, they would never know, unless …
“There’s only one way we’ll ever know,” he said quietly, thinking aloud.
Kaile looked him straight in the eye. “How?” Then she realized what he meant, and her mouth fell open. “No … no, you can’t be serious.”
She was right. Even as the notion entered his mind, Sanjay thrust it away. None but those whom the deacons cast out of Providence ever made the dangerous crossing of the Western Channel. In fact, no one was allowed to leave the island except fishermen and those who used sailboats to travel from one coastal village to another. All that was known of the rest of Eos came from ancient maps belonging to the First Children that had been handed down through the generations. They depicted great continents separated from one another by vast seas, with Providence the largest island of a small equatorial archipelago just off the coast of the landform known as Terra Minor. Gal had forbidden any exploration of these distant lands, though, so her children knew almost next to nothing about the rest of the world. Even the maps were closely held by the Council of Deacons, rarely seen by anyone else.
“No, you’re right.” He shook his head. “We can’t do that. We’d…”
A shrill whistle from their boat, then Ramos’s voice came to them from across the water. “All right, you two … enough of that! Back to work!”
Then Sayra called to them as well. “Yes, enough!” she yelled, childishly scolding them. “Save it for your bed, Sanjay, if she’ll let you take her to it!”
Kaile forced a smile and raised a fore, but Sanjay wasn’t about to let her go quite yet. “It’s not a bad suggestion,” he said. “I’ve missed you very much. Will you…?”
She laughed, this time with genuine amusement, and pushed herself away from him. “Help me gather a few more scavengers,” she said, “and I’ll think about it.”
Then she upended herself and, with a kick of her hinds, disappeared beneath the surface. But not before Sanjay caught the coy wink of an eye that told him that she’d already made up her mind.
IV
Kaile kept her side of the bargain. When Calliope was going down and the boats returned to shore, she came home with Sanjay.
Dayall was already there, working on dinner. He was surprised when Kaile walked in with his son, and it was the first time in weeks that Sanjay saw him smile. As if nothing had ever changed, he put another plate on the table, then pulled some more mockapples and vine melons from the pantry and put them out along with a jug of wine. Sanjay had brought home a scavenger he’d caught, and it wasn’t long before it was steamed, shelled, and on the table. They talked about his diving trip while they ate, and for once Dayall’s part of the conversation wasn’t limited to monosyllables. For just a little while, it was as if everything had gone back to the way it had been before Aara left.
Once the meal was over and the kitchen was cleaned up, Dayall murmured something about how he thought it might be nice to spend the night at Garth’s house. Sanjay politely objected, but he knew why his father was going over to his uncle’s place. Dayall gathered a bedroll and took another jug from the wine cabinet, and was gone before Kaile could thank him for dinner.
Sanjay lit a fire and took the small wooden box of dreamer’s weed down from the mantle. Kaile blew out the candles and they shared a pipe by firelight, saying little as they gazed into the flames and let the pipe smoke soften their senses. The night was cool, so he closed the window shutters. The fire warmed them, and it wasn’t long before their fores wandered to each other’s bodies. Soon they were curled up together upon the rug, rediscovering the pleasures they’d been denied all summer.
Kaile considered going home, but decided that the hour was late enough already that any excuses she might make for her absence would be transparent. Besides, it was time for her parents to learn that she wasn’t going to leave Sanjay no matter what they thought of his family. Sanjay couldn’t have agreed more. As the fire began to gutter out, he led her through the darkened house to his bedroom. They made love again before exhaustion caught up with them and, wrapped within warm blankets, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Sanjay had no idea what hour it was when he felt a fore upon his shoulder and heard a voice quietly say his name. Slow to emerge from the depths of sleep, his first thought was that Kaile trying to rouse him for another round of lovemaking, but then the voice repeated itself and he realized that it wasn’t her who was speaking to him. Kaile was still asleep beside him, while the person trying to wake him up was crouched next to his bed. He opened his eyes and turned his head, and in the wan amber light of the sisters seeping in through a crack between the closed shutters of his bedroom window, he saw Aara.
He jerked upright in bed, not quite believing what he was seeing. Before he could say anything, though, his mother lay a fore across his mouth. “Shhh … be quiet!” she hissed, barely more than a whisper. “Don’t wake your father.”
“Sanjay?” Kaile twisted beside him, still more asleep than awake. “Sanjay, what’s going on?”
Aara’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in dismay. “Is that Kaile?” she asked softly, as if it would be anyone else. Still stunned by his mother’s presence, he gave a dumb nod and she sighed. “Oh, no … I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Aara?” Kaile woke up as suddenly as Sanjay had, and was just as astonished. “Aara, what are you…?”
“Hush
.” Aara lifted a finger to her mouth. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want Dayall to know I’m here.”
Kaile went silent, but Sanjay could feel her trembling beside him. “He’s not here,” he whispered. “He’s spending the night at Garth’s house.”
Aara let out her breath in relief. “Good … that’s good. Wait a sec.”
She moved away from the bed, and a moment later there came the tiny sparks and soft sounds of firestarter flints being scratched together. The fish-oil lamp on his clothes chest flickered to life, and now they could see her clearly. Aara wore the same black robe she’d been wearing the last time Sanjay had seen her; although its hood was drawn up over her head, he could see the facial scar left by R’beca’s knife, a reminder that she was an exile who could be killed if anyone found her back on Providence.
The thought must have occurred to her as well, because Aara’s expression was wary when she turned to them again. “Kaile,” she said quietly, “I can trust you, can’t I? You’re not going to run straight to the Guardians, are you?” She looked straight at the girl, meeting her gaze with suspicious eyes.
Kaile hesitated just long enough for Sanjay to realize that she was wrestling with her conscience. “No … no, I won’t,” she said at last, much to his relief. “I’m not Aiko or Jak. I didn’t want you to be banished. But Aara, why…?”
“I can’t tell you that. Not now, anyway. No time.” A nod toward the closed window. “It’ll be morning soon, and we must be gone by then.” A pause. “Sanjay, I mean … Kaile, you’re staying here, and I’m going to have to ask your word not to tell anyone that I was here or where…”
She stopped herself, but not before Sanjay knew what she meant to say next. “You want me to go with you?” he asked, and she nodded. “To Purgatory?” Again, a solemn nod. He felt a cold sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”
Before Aara could respond, Kaile spoke up again. “I saw a light in the sky last night while I was on watch. Just like the one you saw, but instead it merged with Gal before it came down on Cape Exile. That has to do with this, doesn’t it?”
A grim smile. “Yes it does.” The smile disappeared and Aara was thoughtful for a moment. “How many people know you spent the night here?”
“My parents. Dayall.” Kaile lay a fore on Sanjay’s shoulder. “Just about everyone who saw us leave the beach together after we went diving yesterday.”
Aara sighed again, this time shaking her head. “So the Guardians will question you when he goes missing. I don’t want you to have to face them or R’beca on my account. I can’t make you come with us, but…”
“No. I want to come.”
Startled, Sanjay stared at her. She met his gaze and gave him a brief nod. Yes, she was aware of what she was getting into. And she was doing it anyway. “Very well,” Aara said as she turned away again. “Get up and get dressed, and be quick about it. I’ve got a boat waiting for us.”
“A boat from Purgatory? Who…?”
“Never mind that now. We’re leaving in two mins.”
Before Sanjay could ask any further questions, his mother left the room. No more lamps were lit, but as he and Kaile climbed out of bed, the soft creak of the pantry door told him that she was gathering food. He wondered why she’d bother to do so, but there was no time to ask.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Kaile as he dug into his chest to give her a sarong, tunic, and calf boots that would be warmer than the thin shawl she’d worn yesterday. Autumn was only a couple of days away, and they would be travelling far from home. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he added as he put on nearly identical clothes.
Kaile didn’t say anything, but the silent nod she gave him told all that he needed to know. For better or worse, they were about to join his mother in Purgatory.
V
The sisters were beginning to set when the three of them slipped out through the back door. Kaile had mentioned that it was Johan’s turn to stand watch, which Sanjay took as a good sign; he knew that his best friend often stole a few hours of sleep in the tower so that he’d be rested enough to go to work the next day. In any case, though, they avoided the streets as much as they could, and instead quietly made their way on all fours through shadowed alleys between cottages, sheds, and shops until they reached the forest on Childstown’s eastern border. No one spotted them; the town was asleep.
Aara led Sanjay and Kaile to the foot path leading south to Mountain Creek, which flowed through the forest from Mt. Lookout to the northeast. The trail would take them to the coastal estuary where the creek drained into the bay. It was there, Aara told them, the boat which had carried her back across the channel was awaiting her return.
“You came over tonight?” Although they were now out of earshot from the village, Sanjay was careful to keep his voice down. “How were you not spotted?”
The forest they walked through was dark, the black fronds of the umbrella palms and sunshade trees forming a shadowed canopy which blotted out all but thin slivers of sisterlight. All the same, Sanjay could see the soft smile that played across Aara’s face. “The exiles have ways of getting here,” she said. “You’ll see.”
“But the monarchs…”
“That’s … something else entirely.” Her smile disappeared. “Now hush. No more questions.”
Sanjay and Kaile exchanged glances, but obediently fell silent. Sanjay knew better than to argue with his mother. Still, he thought as he shifted the straps of his belly pack, she was being a little too mysterious about all this.
About three kilms from Childstown, they reached the end of the trail. Through the wild roseberry and bambu that grew along the shore, the estuary lay before them, its waters faintly shimmering with the reflections from Aether and Bacchae. From the other side of a genesis plant that rose beside the trail, Sanjay could make out a catamaran resting upon the narrow beach. As they approached the genesis plant, though, he heard a soft voice, male yet unlike any he’d heard before.
“The specimen appears to be fully mature, approximately one-point-eight meters in height, its width … call it a little less than one meter at its base. As with all pseudonative species, its leaves are matte-black in pigmentation, a genetically engineered adaptation to the primary’s lesser magnitude and, in this instance, generation of cyanobacteria and the subsequent production of atmospheric oxygen and nitrogen. Its form clearly indicates its descent from the giant hosta, albeit considerably larger. Altogether, it appears that the alteration of its basic genetic pattern has been remarkably successful, especially considering the…”
“We’re here,” Aara said, raising her voice just a little.
Realizing that he was no longer alone, the person speaking abruptly stopped talking, but not before Sanjay spotted the individual to whom the voice belonged. Taller than any of them—as tall, in fact, as the genesis plant he stood beside—he stood upright on his hinds, his figure cloaked by the hooded cloak which covered him from head to toe. Indeed, as they came closer, Sanjay was surprised to see that, beneath the cowl, he wore a dark veil across the lower part of his face, a mask that completely hid his features.
Yet it was his voice, in the brief moments in which Sanjay heard it, that intrigued him the most. Although he’d been speaking Inglis, many of the words he’d used were unfamiliar; Sanjay had clearly heard what he’d said, but didn’t understand its meaning. And the accent was strange: sharper, with an odd inflection of the syllables.
“Oh, good. You made it back.” The figure stepped away from the genesis plant, and for an instant Sanjay noticed something held in his right fore before it disappeared within the cloak. “No trouble, I hope?”
“None. We got out of there without being spotted. But—” Aara hesitated, then stood erect to indicate Kaile “—I had to bring someone else. This is Kaile, my son’s betrothed. She was with him when I found them. We couldn’t leave her behind.”
A disgruntled sigh from the other side of the veil. “Are you sure? Thi
s could complicate things, you know.”
“If she stays, the Guardians will know that she was with Sanjay when he disappeared, because they were seen together all day yesterday and last night. They’ll try to work the truth out of her, and R’beca is very good at that. With any luck, my husband and her family will believe that the two of them simply ran away for awhile, as young people sometimes do.”
Sanjay now understood why Aara had taken food from the pantry. Once he and Kaile were found to be missing, which was inevitable, the most likely explanation would be that they’d taken off into the wilds for a little while, perhaps to a little lean-to shed Sanjay had secretly built in the mountains. Unbonded lovers occasionally did this when they wished to be free of the prying eyes of family and neighbors; it wasn’t a practice condoned by the Disciples, but tolerated nonetheless. If they were fortunate, no one would search for them for a little while, preferring to give them their privacy while they rehearsed their future roles as a bonded couple.
“Very well. If we have no choice.” The figure nodded his hooded head toward the boat. “Teri is waiting for you on the boat. If you’ll give me a second … a sec, I mean … to cut a leaf…”
He stepped back toward the genesis plant. “Stop!” Kaile snapped, raising her fores. “You can’t do that!”
The stranger halted, looked around at her again. “I’m sorry, but what…?”
“It’s forbidden to touch genesis plants.” Kaile was horrified by what she’d seen, but also perplexed. “It’s in the Word … everyone knows that!”
Sanjay was just as confused. One of the most basic tenants of the Word of Gal was that even wild plants such as this must never be harvested. They were the means by which Gal had created Eos, and touching them without the supervision of a deacon during the spring and autumn solstice rituals was considered a sacrilege. Every child was taught this the first time they were taken into the forest for their first lessons in woodlore. How could this person be unaware of this?
“My apologies. I…” The stranger stopped. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. I’m Nathan.”
The Year's Best Science Fiction - Thirty-Third Annual Collection Page 52