“That felt good,” he said, running his hands through his hair to slick it back down against his head.
“Uh, are you okay?” Liseli asked.
He wiped a hand across his forehead and replied, “Yeah . . . I feel better . . . .” He inhaled again, and smiled, stretching his arms out to the side as if he’d just woken up from the most refreshing sleep of his life. “Mm. Don’t have water like that in Fayette.”
Liseli just stared for a moment. Sure, the water had been good, and had rejuvenated her, but . . . . “No fever? You feel all right?” She creased her forehead in disbelief.
Russ just shrugged as his smile widened. She leaned toward him and felt his forehead to make sure — it was getting so that she didn’t think twice about touching his face. “You’re right . . . your temperature is normal. I just don’t understand it.” She lowered her hand, shaking her head. “I mean . . . you can’t just be perfectly healthy just like that . . . you . . . I . . . I mean, do you know how worried I was about you? I thought you were . . . well, dying!”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Liseli frowned at him.
“I know. It was a joke.”
“Oh . . . . Ha.”
He looked at the ground with another shrug, and nodded. “Well. Thanks for being concerned, anyway. I didn’t think—”
“I would be?” She lifted both eyebrows. “No, really, I like seeing people pass out; gives me a twisted kind of satisfaction.”
He peeked back up at her with a half-grin. “Hmm, thought so.”
“Ha. Ha,” she reached out and jabbed his shoulder. “See if I ever feel concern for you again.”
Encouraged, his grin widened mischievously, “Was that supposed to be a punch? Or were you brushing grass off my sleeve?”
“I was swatting a fly.” She tilted her chin up and crossed her arms.
“Oookay . . . .”
“A big, pesky Russell-fly . . . of the . . . of the, eh, loutish variety,” she finished, nodding.
“I see.” He still looked pleased with himself, as he lay back and stretched out on the ground, folding his hands under his head. He smiled balmily up at the sky. “I like that. From now on, you can consider me the buzz in your ear . . . the bug in your hair . . . the crunchy surprise in your food . . . the splatter on your windshield . . . the guts on your swatter . . . the—”
“You are a very silly boy.” Liseli leaned over and looked down at him with practiced sternness, her mouth twitching in a reluctant smile. “But I am glad you’re feeling better. So there. Flyface.”
He reached up and tugged at her ponytail dangling above him. “And you’re the window I beat my little fly brains against . . . the zapper I fry myself with . . . the Venus flytrap I—”
“Stop there.”
He sat up. She leaned back out of the way, but their faces were close together as he suggested, “Or you’ll swat me again, right?”
“Alright, what has gotten into you?”
“Nothing.” He blinked innocently.
Liseli paused, then huffed, “Did you just bat your eyelashes at me like a girl?”
“No!”
“Yes, you did.”
A chuckle escaped her. Isn’t really that funny, she told herself. But she just felt like laughing. “Your fever isn’t gone, it just went to your brain, Russell.”
“Yeah.”
They fell silent. Russ watched her face, but Liseli cautiously cleared her throat and darted an awkward glance around at anything besides him. In the silence she noticed how close he was. She stared at a bush to her right, but felt his breath brush by her face as he exhaled. It smelled like the river . . . not a bad smell . . . and she was aware of his hand moving as he lifted it to . . . scratch the side of his face. Then he returned it to rest on the ground. Very . . . close . . . by . . . . Her eyes drifted back to his face. “Nice place by the river here isn’t it?” she asked, turning it into one word.
“Uh . . . um . . . yeah, I guess.” He shrugged.
What the hell. Do it. Liseli lurched forward and brushed her lips across his in one quick swipe, then planted a light peck on the corner of his mouth. She rocked back and settled rigidly into her previous position, blushing. Russ stared at her for a moment, mouth working as if he was trying to say something. But then he just reached out for her, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward him in an awkward jerk. She didn’t resist, and he kissed her back, tasting her lips hesitantly. His mouth was warm, and the overnight stubble was itchy as he pressed closer. The kiss tickled, but felt good. Very . . . very . . . good . . . .
“Nh-uh-uh.” Liseli suddenly pulled back, shaking his hands away. She scrambled to her feet. Russ stared up at her and gulped, but didn’t say anything. Liseli turned and took a couple steps away. He drew his knees up and looped his arms around them with a sigh. They said nothing, but when her back was to him, Liseli stared at the flowing ripples in the river and couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto her face.
Not bad . . . not bad at all . . . mused a voice, at once inside her head yet distinct from her mind. She barely had time to comprehend this strangeness before it continued, Tastes good, does he? I thought he would. Looks like the type, you know them when you know them. Shouldn’t have stopped him, sweetheart.
“What the . . . ?” She looked around, cheeks flushing; then she caught sight of the familiar figure of the child standing a little ways up a hill across the river, staring down at them. All other thoughts fled.
Chapter 6 ~ Alisiyans
“Russ!” Liseli exclaimed. He jumped a little, startled.
“It’s that kid! Do you see him now?” She waved her hand toward the opposite bank.
Russ got up. He nodded, but asked, “Are you sure it’s the exact same one?”
“Definitely; I wouldn’t forget that stare.”
“Don’t scare him away,” Russ lowered his voice.
“He doesn’t look scared,” said Liseli in the same low whisper, “and he wasn’t scared before . . . . You try saying hello this time.”
“Maybe I should just wave. That’s less threatening, right?”
“I don’t know . . . try it.”
Russ plastered a wide smile on his face and waved slowly, from the elbow up.
“Wave like a real person, not like you’re in a parade float,” Liseli hissed.
“This is real,” he said through his teeth.
Liseli shook her head. “No, it’s cheesy . . . and I don’t think he likes it . . . .”
The child’s gaze did not waver as they spoke. But after a moment he turned around and climbed toward the rise of the hill, threatening to disappear over the other side at any moment. Liseli reached out and grabbed Russ’s arm, pulling it down. “Do something!” she hissed.
“What? Do what? What am I supposed to do?” Russ tensed as he turned to look at her.
“I don’t know, talk to him!”
“You—”
“He won’t listen to me.” Liseli tried to push Russ back around to face the river. She looked up and stopped, gripping his arm in frustration. The child was gone. Completely gone. It was too late.
“He’s gone.” Russ looked at his feet.
Liseli let go of his sleeve. “I can see that,” she said, giving him a little shove as she dropped his arm. “Thank you.”
“Sorry,” Russ mumbled, hugging himself across the chest with one arm. Liseli stood awkwardly at his side without saying anything for a moment. She squinted at the opposite bank of the river.
“Well, this sucks,” she broke the silence, trying to sound mildly ticked off instead of on the verge of panicking. She thought she did a pretty good job.
“Yeah. Sorry,” Russ repeated, still not looking at her as he shrugged one shoulder.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not your fault, I just . . . this isn’t good, we can’t . . . .” Liseli waved her hand toward the river, then she took a deep breath and pressed her palm to her forehead. “I don�
��t know what to do.”
Russ dropped his arm and turned toward her. “It’ll be alright,” he mustered a smile.
“Yeah, right, if you like being lost.” Liseli tried to laugh. It came out shaky. She crossed her arms over her stomach. A breeze blew along the riverbank and lifted some loose strands of hair into her face, but she didn’t move, keeping her hands balled up into fists in the crooks of her elbows.
“Hey . . . it will be.” Russ stepped forward and put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her toward his chest. Liseli didn’t uncross her arms as he tried to give her a reassuring squeeze. Her face pressed into his shirt. He still smelled like French fries . . . French fries and body odor.
“I can’t breathe,” she mumbled. Russ loosened his grip, and she backed up.
“I . . . ” he began, but then something over her shoulder caught his attention. “Hey; there’s someone behind you.”
“What?” She glanced back, seeing no one.
“Look—” Russ nodded “—over there in the bushes.”
Liseli turned around and looked at a clump of bushes growing along the river to the south. “I don’t see—”
“Something moved, looked like a person,” Russ insisted. “Come on, let’s go see.”
“What if it’s an animal?” Liseli eyed the round green leaves fluttering in the breeze.
“Then we’ll kill it and eat it.” Russ sounded cheerful, tapping the top of her head as he walked by.
“Don’t do that.” She touched the spot on her head.
“Sorry.” He paused and looked back. “You coming?”
“No, you kill it, I’ll watch and eat,” Liseli replied in what she thought was a testy voice, but his smile widened.
“’K. Breakfast, coming up.”
Liseli watched him approach the bush. She winced as he reached out to part some of the branches without hardly even looking beforehand.
“Oh, hey there,” Russ said, speaking to something she couldn’t see, in a tone of voice she usually reserved for kittens.
“What is it?”
Russ looked back at her. “It’s a girl.”
Liseli trotted over to the bush and looked in. A small girl, maybe about four or five years old, crouched near the base of the bush. She peered up at Russ and Liseli with large brown eyes, then shielded her face. She had a long braid hanging over her shoulder, and wore a simple homespun dress and shawl with worn leather boots. Strangely old-fashioned, Liseli thought.
“Hi!” Liseli bent over and smiled. “Who are you?”
The little girl curled up into a tighter ball and said nothing.
“It’s okay, we won’t hurt you.” Liseli reached out a hand tentatively. “What are you doing in the bushes?” She touched the girl’s shoulder very lightly, and the girl peeked out at her.
“I’m hiding,” she finally responded, relaxing a little. Russ moved the branches and she flinched away. He froze, smiling innocently.
“Oh. Who are you hiding from?” Liseli continued, in her best Smiley Meal voice.
“Oan.”
“Who’s Oan? And why are you hiding from him?” Liseli glanced around, but saw no one in the area.
“My brother. It’s a game.” The girl uncurled and studied Liseli, only flitting her eyes to Russ for a second before ducking her head again.
“Hide-and-seek,” Russ told Liseli helpfully. She gave him a silent no duh look and turned back to the girl.
“Well, I’m Liseli.” Liseli pointed to herself, then poked Russ in the chest; “and this big scary oaf is Russ, but he’s really harmless, despite appearances.”
“Gee thanks.”
“What’s your name?”
The girl hesitated, then said, “Ivira.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name. Isn’t it, Russ?”
“Uh-huh.” Russ nodded. “And there’s a really sharp twig poking into my wrist.”
Liseli laughed, airily, and said, “Isn’t he such a dork? Why don’t you come out of there?”
“Oan will find me.”
“But we’ve already found you, so we’ve won and you have to come out.” Liseli beckoned. “We beat Oan. C’mon.”
Ivira looked skeptical, but she crawled, and Russ dropped the branches. The little girl stood, casting appraising glances up and down Liseli and Russ. “You’re dressed very funny,” she observed. “Where are you from?”
“Fayette,” Liseli replied, crouching down. Ivira looked blank.
“Wisconsin,” Russ supplied. “America.”
“Have you heard of any of those places?” Liseli asked hopefully.
Ivira stared at her with a frown for a moment. “Are they near Varaneshe?”
“No . . . .”
Ivira shrugged, and shook her head.
“Bummer.” Liseli rocked back and sat down. The tall grass tickled her bare arms. “We’re kind of lost, actually. I was hoping you could tell us where we are.”
“Alisiya,” Ivira answered readily. Then her eyes widened. “Are you otherworlders?”
Liseli hesitated. “I don’t—”
“Sure,” Russ said, shrugging. He lowered himself next to Liseli and sat cross-legged. “That works.”
Ivira gaped at them.
“Hey, listen,” Liseli said, “where do you live? Can we meet your parents?” She cocked her head to the side and tried to smile as encouragingly as possible. She noticed Russ watching her with an amused smirk, but at the moment cajoling Ivira was more important.
“No,” Ivira looked away as she toyed with the end of her braid. “They’re dead. I live with Grandfather and Granamae.”
“I’m sorry. Can we meet them?”
“I suppose so.”
At that moment they heard a voice cry out, “There they are! See?” They looked to the south, and saw three people walking toward them on the road — a boy and two men. The boy was pointing at them.
“Your brother?” Liseli guessed.
Ivira nodded. “You found me first, you beat him, right?”
“Yeah. Who’s with him?”
“Grandfather and Currun.” Ivira made a face as she said the last name.
As they came nearer, one of the men reached out and pulled the boy back by the shoulder. Liseli couldn’t tell which one was Grandfather and which one was Currun — they both looked rather young from her distance. The one who had rein of Oan appeared somewhat older, in his thirties, perhaps, while the other looked closer to hers and Russ’s age. So she guessed that the first one was the grandfather. He wore a jacket, shirt and pants of dark green and earthen tones, but the younger one had a faded black, silver-trimmed vest over a blue shirt. Both wore calf-length leather boots. Their hair was dark and cut short.
“Ivira! Come here, right now!” the younger man called out, in a voice that left no room for argument. He stalked forward with his hands open at his sides; everything about him looked tense and ready for a confrontation.
Ivira hesitated, looking at Liseli, but the man repeated her name. “Who is he?” Liseli asked in a low voice.
“He’s Grandfather’s brother, and he’s an old grouch.” Ivira repeated her little grimace.
“You should probably obey him,” Russ suggested. “He looks kind of pissed.”
On the third stern repetition of her name, Ivira turned and scampered toward Currun. He picked her up and said some things that Liseli couldn’t make out, but which sounded like a scolding.
“Let me do the talking,” Liseli said. Russ was silent, and she looked at him sharply. “Okay?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
“Are you gonna let me do the talking?” She glanced back at the rapidly approaching men.
“Whatever. I’m your dumb mute slave-boy for all they know.”
“Tch.” Liseli shook her head, then turned her full attention to the natives. Currun was still holding Ivira, and Oan had dropped back to walk next to him. As they came closer she noticed that both men had medium length daggers hanging from
their belts, sheathed in holsters with a strange silver design curving around them. Oh. Weapons. She swallowed nervously despite herself. She darted her eyes toward Russ, and he took his hands out of his pockets, stepping closer to her.
Chapter 6 ~ Alisiyans, part 2
Ivira’s Grandfather walked out ahead a little ways, and stopped within a few yards of them. He looked them over, eyebrows raised slightly. Liseli took a deep breath and launched into disgruntled-customer-alert mode. “Good morning,” she said, smiling. “We’re a little lost—”
“Hmm. And who are you?” the man interrupted, glancing between their faces with obvious suspicion.
“Uh, I . . . .” Liseli regrouped; “I’m Liseli. Luenford. And this is Russell Markson.” She waved to Russ and then folded her hands in front of her.
“Pillari Erykumyn.” The man nodded once. “My brother, and grandchildren.” He nodded again to the side. Then he caught Oan’s eye, and said something incomprehensible. It took Liseli a second to realize he was talking in a different language.
Oan replied in the same tongue, waving a hand toward Russ and Liseli. He seemed defensive, and Pillari held up one hand, silencing him with another question. Oan nodded and crossed his arms.
“Tell them about where you’re from,” Ivira said to Liseli. “I forgot what it’s called.”
Currun said one word to her, and she fell silent.
“We’re from, um, America.” Liseli decided to skip the details. She glanced at Russ. He shrugged.
A dry smile cracked Pillari’s face. “Does he talk?” He motioned to Russ.
“I talk,” said Russ, putting his hand on Liseli’s shoulder.
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