Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series

by Vaiya Books

  Stomping a large bulbous blue spider into the earth and swatting a noisy mosquito on his hand, he suddenly stopped caring about how the needle had affected him as he reflected on his bad situation, his sense of justice flaring within him.

  About to settle into a bitter melancholy, he was struck with a sudden inspiration that shattered his gloom into fragments; he’d read enough fairy tales in his life to know that even though the beginning and the middle of them could be horrible for the protagonists, they almost always ended well. Cinderella, the Frog Prince, Rapunzel, the Six Swans all started out badly, yet look at how they turned out?

  “Are you awake?”

  Shaken, Jimmy focused his eyes on where the young female voice came from, and quickly saw her shadowy form--she was sitting in the cell right across from him, her face peering at him through the bars. Seeing her was quite frightening as he’d just been involved in a critical internal monologue with himself, and as such, it took him awhile to frame his simple response, which likely wasn’t even news to her anyway as he was obviously moving around in his cell. “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m glad. It’s been so lonely here today, and to think, I have four more years left to go. I don’t think I can manage it.” She paused enough to cough and to catapult something across to the other end of the cell, before resuming, her tone now laced with frustration and anger. “This place is sick. There is absolutely no way I should be lodging with rats.”

  Jimmy shuddered. At least he hadn’t seen any of these disease-ridden rodents yet. Still, if they were in her cell it was only a matter of time before they migrated to his. And when they did, he’d be prepared.

  “Why are you here anyway?” she asked pointedly after having a heated discussion with her animal roommates. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you? I’d simply have to hate you if you did.”

  “No, I didn’t do anything of the sort,” replied Jimmy, finding his rage still near the surface. “I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Wrong place at the wrong time,” she repeated to herself slowly, as if she’d never heard the expression before. “You must really be unlucky. What happened?”

  A frown contorted his face. “I got accused of being a member of the Forest Scourge.”

  She gasped. “That’s serious.”

  “I know,” he said bitterly.

  After a timid silence, she spoke, “You’re not one of them, are you?”

  “Of course not,” he replied hastily. “I was actually fighting them right before the guards arrived.”

  This quieted her for a few moments before she asked, “Are you hurt badly?”

  “Not at all,” replied Jimmy, dispelling her obvious concern for his condition.

  “You must be really strong then,” she said, her tone enhanced with awe. “My brother got into a fight with them once and left with cuts all over his body.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “That’s terrible.”

  “I’m sorry for sharing this news with you,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding weak and uncertain. “I was just trying to make sense of your situation.”

  At first very confused, Jimmy’s mind flashed back to a similar encounter with the guard and then remembered. This culture did not have the same meanings for gestures as his did. Making a mental note to be cautious before he ever used another gesture, he eased her sorrow. “When I shook my head it wasn’t intended as an insult to you. In my culture it means an entirely different thing.”

  “And what culture would that be?” she asked warmly, apparently accepting this new turn of events rather quickly.

  “The northern one,” he replied after a brief hesitation. It didn’t really seem like lying.

  She paused. “My teachers taught me that aside from a unique dialect, the north generally holds to the same cultural practices as the Sarithian mainland. Are you saying otherwise?”

  “Perhaps I am,” said Jimmy, somewhat frustrated, “for there are many different gestures around the world and it only makes sense that they could take on unique meanings depending on the country or nation that they are being used in.”

  She paused as if embarrassed. Then replied rather meekly, “Forgive me for not understanding your words, but I’m only a twig.”

  Jimmy gave her a weird look, which she probably couldn’t catch through the darkness, and then decided that she must be referring to her age and how young she was. It was the only logical explanation he could make out of her bizarre comment.

  As if sensing the silence, she spoke again, “You’re probably wondering what crime a young girl could commit that would send her to prison?” Not giving him time for a response, she answered her own question, “I stole an iron sword from a blacksmith.”

  “You’re a thief then?” asked Jimmy, wishing she’d never told him this, yet finding this information very interesting, nonetheless.

  “No,” she stated emphatically. “Three rich nobles forced me to do this for them under threat of death.” Her voice trembled. “Otherwise, there’s no way I would’ve ever stolen from Blacksmith Garvi, as Sekhad, his daughter, is my dearest friend.” She broke out into heavy sobbing. “Believe me … I’m innocent.”

  Not knowing the full situation, he chose to side with her. After all, he was imprisoned falsely, and it wasn’t too hard to imagine that others would share a similar fate. “I believe you.”

  As if his words had broken a strong spell, the chains suddenly fell off his legs and arms as a pure bright light burned into his eyes, causing his head to spin. Body vibrating rapidly, goose bumps invading his whole body, he fell down onto his knees, his hands on the soft dirt.

  Breathing rapidly, he felt the wet earth change into smooth ceramic tiles; the dank, earthy smell receded and a bright, clean antiseptic scent took the stage; the buzzing mosquitoes faded away, replaced with a somber melody he immediately recognized as the Dark Eyes, the somber, foreboding song that was often played and was a favorite among the customers.

  He rubbed his temples. For some reason he now had quite the headache. Now why had he come in here again? Gathering his thoughts, he recollected it all. He’d come in here to wash the hot sauce off his hands and to get some temporary relief from the girls.

  Slowly getting off the ground, he staggered over to the sink, pushed the soap dispenser, stuck his hands next to the faucet, and began washing his hands, which for some reason looked abnormally grimy. Odd. Did his hands somehow get dirty from touching the floor? Then again, why was he on the floor to begin with? Did he have a seizure? did he faint?

  Glimpsing himself in the mirror, feeling overwhelmed by questions, he suddenly stood in shock. His face was also grimy. This was too weird. Washing off the dirt from his face and fixing his hair, he scanned his clothes to make sure they were presentable. Besides having a little dirt on them, which he quickly brushed off, they looked fine.

  Drying himself off as best as he could with the hand dryer, he took a deep breath and studied himself in the mirror again. To think that the girls must have seen him like this--it was too embarrassing, too awful. Only once he was completely sure that everything about him was perfect, which took longer than he thought it would, did he turn to leave.

  And as he did so, he noticed an elderly man, with a full head of cotton hair, staring at him curiously, back against the wall. When did he come in? And why was he watching him? Shrugging, swallowing his annoyance, Jimmy murmured, “What, can’t I wash up? The food’s really messy here.”

  But the man smiled wistfully, his eyes half shut as if reflecting on the past. “Ah, I remember my first date....”

  And that was all Jimmy heard. He left the bathroom abruptly before the old man could recount a history he didn’t care to know. Avoiding a headlong collision with a shy-looking blonde-haired waitress, and then apologizing hastily, he composed himself and calmly picked up a plate, filling it heaping full. Who knew food could look so good?

  Returning to the table, with fresh boldness, he sat down next to Ian, who
studied him cautiously. Eddy patted him on the back randomly. Tianna gaped at him as if he were a pig. Hazel smiled. Amanda was too busy eating her large slice of pumpkin pie to notice him.

  “More food, Jimmy?” asked Tianna, while tilting her water glass slightly.

  “Yeah, I feel like I haven’t eaten in hours,” he said dreamily. His head still throbbed relentlessly, like a cloud of mist had taken occupancy around him.

  “My cousin Darien has the same appetite,” said Hazel, a twinkle in her eyes, gazing at Jimmy as if waiting for him to blush--he didn’t. “He just fills up plate after plate.”

  Eddy forked the last piece of his apple pie into his mouth. Tianna drank more of her water. Hazel wiped her mouth with a napkin. Ian sat there quietly, as if brooding over an upcoming exam. Amanda sectioned off another piece of her pie.

  And that was about all Jimmy remembered of the evening … he couldn’t remember much else. It all passed by in a blur. Aside from asking Ian for money at the cash register because his wallet had somehow gone missing, and hearing the girls laugh at Eddy for leaving a ten dollar tip for the waitress, he didn’t remember much else except that curly fries didn’t taste good mixed with chocolate pudding....

  “You seem distracted,” said Carissa, as she reshuffled the Uno deck. “You never lose three times in a row without complaining about something.”

  “I can change that if you’d like.” Jimmy expertly flung a draw-four card at his sister, striking her in the leg.

  She scowled playfully as she picked the card up, unbent the left corner of it, and mixed it back into the deck. “Really, Jimmy, what’s your problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, fatigued, as he traced the cut on his forearm with his index finger, a wound he didn’t remember receiving, but from the look of it, one he must have acquired at the sword fighting league earlier today--or yesterday, for the league was closed today.

  “That’s the fourth time you’ve done that.” She examined his minor injury, which resembled a cat scratch, except longer and straighter. “How’d you get it?”

  “Sword wound.” He shuffled around in the maple wood chair, setting both hands on the sturdy kitchen table.

  Sadness swam in her light brown eyes; she frowned with displeasure. “You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt one of these times.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said tiredly, causing her to stare astonishingly into his eyes; he rarely agreed with her so easily.

  “You’re sick--that’s it.” Carissa felt his forehead and then frowned. “Temperature’s normal though.” Curling her dark hair behind her ears, she thought for a second, before facing him again. “It’s that new guy, Eddy, isn’t it? You’re afraid he doesn’t like you.”

  Jimmy shook his head.

  “I know … it’s the girls then. They didn’t include you in their conversations, did they?”

  But Jimmy just shook his head again.

  She persisted. “You were embarrassed around them?”

  He just laughed nervously. “Of course, but I’ve always been shy around girls.”

  She grew more baffled. “The food at the buffet upset your stomach then?”

  He shook his head yet a third time.

  By now completely bewildered, she placed her finger lightly on her chin. “Is it something I did?”

  “No.” He rested his head on the table. “I just have a lot on my mind--that’s all.”

  Knowing how her brother could be, she didn’t bring up the topic anymore, and enjoyed winning two more games. Putting the cards away, she smiled. “I hope you sleep better than I did last night.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “You three kept me up with all your shouting and yelling; it’s like you forgot I was even here.” She scooped up a handful of peanut butter M&M’s from a candy bowl, and began picking them out individually, popping them into her mouth.

  He sighed. “For your information, it was Will making most of the noise. Besides, you were free to join us anytime; we do have four controllers you know.”

  A brief pause. “I’m shy around new people,” Carissa admitted, while filling up a glass of milk with her spare hand. She then looked into his eyes. “Do you think Ian would think I’m weird?”

  “What for?” He quietly stole the milk glass from her and hid it behind a box of cereal.

  “I don’t know. I just feel so different. Most of the girls at school think so.”

  “Why?” asked Jimmy, as he returned the glass without her even noticing, bitterness worming its way onto his face.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure.” Sadness trickled into her eyes. “I try not to think about it.”

  “Then let’s not even talk about it,” said Jimmy, having his own share of reasons for wanting this conversation to end, as it reminded him too much of his own struggles. He could already hear the voices of his classmates ridiculing him and calling him all sorts of names. Dragon slayer and Jimmy Ivanhoe were just two of the new ones from this week. If he’d kept a list, it’d be down to at least seventy.

  “Would Ian tease me?” Carissa’s voice drowned out all the others, bringing him out of his self-pity and casting him into the darkness.

  His face hardened like clay. “No, there’s no way he would.” Ian had never hurled any jokes at him yet, so there’s no way he’d ever do so to a girl--especially one as softhearted as Carissa. Ian was different than the others.

  The poison drained from her face, leaving a thin smile, weak but lovely. “If he ever comes over again, I’ll try to meet him.”

  “I’m sure you’ll like him,” he said, the tension in the air obliterating into thousands of pieces. “He’s just like Will only he’s not into war movies and historical documentaries.” He paused for a while before adding, “Oh, and of course he’s not as loud either and he’s mysterious in a good sort of way, if that makes any sense.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, he seems pretty cool already.”

  “He really is. And he’s funny too.”

  As the two of them said goodnight to each other, they parted ways.

  Carissa went back to her laptop to resume playing a hidden object game based in Egypt, where the goal was to retrieve the seven ancient artifacts of King Tut. William had lectured her for over ten minutes about the historical inaccuracies of the game on Monday, but that had only increased her amusement in it. Now she made it a point to play the game whenever William was around just to aggravate him.

  As for Jimmy, he returned to his bedroom, glad that his sister had cheered up, yet distraught over her explanation for why she was being ridiculed at school. It had to be his fault. It always was. There was nothing about her that was different from other girls, except that she was much kinder and more sensitive to others’ feelings.

  Closing his door, and then shutting the blinds on the window, he squeezed his eyes shut in anger as another revelation hit him. If it weren’t for him, she would be popular. She had everything: good looks, good grades, even a good sense of humor. Yet none of this mattered so long as he was her brother. This family connection was not something that immature, intrusive freshmen overlooked.

  Rage pouring into his heart from the double-headed waterfall of resentment and spite, he hammered his fist into the bed covers. After a little while, though, he felt ashamed and heavily slunk into his bed, as if weighed down by an anchor.

  Hearing a distant boom of thunder, he only grew lonelier. A storm was coming, and it sounded severe. He just hoped it wouldn’t knock out the electricity and that his sister, who had storm duty this week, would unplug the important appliances if it got too ugly. He couldn’t handle anything else going wrong.

  Settling into a comfortable position on his pillow, he thought back to what his sister had said about the sword fighting league and how dangerous it was and clenched his teeth. She was right--he couldn’t risk hurting himself, especially as the league was only adding more fuel to the gossip and wasn’t even teaching him that much. He had to drop out. There was n
o way he could go there tomorrow and even have fun. Every minute would be torture.

  If there were any way he could save his sister from becoming the hotpot of rumors, if there were any way he could allow her to live a regular life, if there were any way he could free her from being thought of as a strange girl, he’d take it in a heartbeat. Leaving the league was only the first step, the first of many yet to come. And he’d be sure to take each one, no matter what the cost.

  Chapter 25

  Wrapping his thick cloak and gray scarf closer to himself, consciously disregarding the breach in clothing policy, Kethin slowly approached the top of the mountain, as he glanced around at his four brothers and two sisters all dressed in thin gray robes, his teeth chattering from the cold.

  It wasn’t long before one of his brothers spotted him, a deep scowl on his face, his rather short fiery red hair blowing in the wind. “You’re late.” Melrok glared at him spitefully. “The meeting’s nearly over.”

  But Kethin merely grinned, as he strode nearer to the group. “Oh? Did I miss anything important?”

  Fire erupting in his dark orange eyes, Melrok disdained to comment, as flames of fire dripped from his hands and melted the snow beneath him. “Give us your account now, so we can get out of this forsaken place.”

  “It is rather cold here,” said Kethin, smiling, his teeth still chattering. “I’m surprised you didn’t dress warmer.”

  Suddenly aware of Kethin’s heavy layers of clothing, Melrok slammed his fist into an already broken marble statue, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “That is a breach of clothing policy!” His voice crackled with rage. “We wear no more and no less than what is required for a member of our order. Do you refuse to comply with the code?”