Gama and Hest: An Ahsenthe Cycle companion novella (The Ahsenthe Cycle)

by Razevich, Alexes

Kinto, the Kelroosh guide, said, “Cra and Pret have a similar tale.”

  Cra’s neck glowed blue-red and he stared at his hands as if they were something new and unknown to him. Gama thought his anxiety came as much from shyness as anything. Pret did the talking.

  “Cra and I were up early one morning,” Pret said, “before chore hour, and we decided to go to a nearby river and see if we could catch a grenlo or two. The reeds are thick by this river — or had been thick, the day before when we visited. When we arrived, not one reed thrust from the water. Nothing swam in the waters or crawled along the banks. It was as if someone had come along and taken everything live that was there, put it in a bag and carried it away.”

  Gama’s head hurt, remembering the grain fields, and trying to imagine what could pluck up every reed, every beast that swam or crawled. Trying to think of why someone or something would do that.

  Bren from Trontin lay his hand on Joh’s neck. Joh’s spots burst into color — orange-red of anticipation, blue-red of anxiety.

  “Please tell your story,” Bren said.

  The pinkish female covered her throat with her hand, but let it drop when she started talking. The color on her neck was as bright as before, and Gama wasn’t surprised that her voice quavered when she spoke.

  “I was with my brothers in our dwelling. It was after night-meal. We were talking and playing a game — the three of us. Suddenly the air in the room took on a kind of shimmering, like pond water that’s been lightly disturbed by wind. Then my brother was gone. Vanished right in front of my eyes.”

  Gama’s chest felt like a band had tightened around it. This answered Prill’s question — the soumyo were no safer than the beasts or birds.

  Joh’s neck erupted in a new color — the pale-blue of despair. Bren stroked her neck, but she pushed Bren’s hand away and locked eyes with Gama. “My brother was gone. Is gone. Where did he go?”

  Gama wished she had an answer for her.

  Reln sighed and pulled himself up off his pillow. “We’ll be in contact,” he told the Kelroosh and Trontin guides. “Tell you anything we learn as soon as we learn it.”

  Kinto and Bren rose and moved to the door, their kin following.

  When they walked out, all the kin of Reev stood waiting outside the door. Gama judged by their anxious expressions that Reln’s dwelling had told the kin and structures everything said inside it. Wall likely had told the other corentas.

  One of the male, Grik, stepped in front of Reln. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked. Demanded, more like. Subtlety and patience were never strong in him, but it was the question in every mind, and it needed an answer.

  “We are all confused and frightened.” Reln’s eyes were on Grik but his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Our thoughts chase each other in useless circles and we may find ourselves caught in that fear. We may want to place blame. We must focus instead on solutions. Reach out to your corenta-kin with think-talking, so we remember that we are all one. Speak with the structures. Test your ideas. Build one thought upon another until the solution is found. For now, we are safe in this place. We have food enough to last us a while. We have time to think and plan.”

  He swept his gaze across the soumyo standing before him. “All work will be suspended. Go to the communiteria and the storage houses and gather what you will need for a five-day wait. Any news from the other corentas will be shared among us all as soon as anything is known.”

  A female standing next to Gama opened her mouth to speak. Reln silenced her with a look and strode through the crowd toward the communiteria. The soumyo parted for him, but stayed rooted where they stood.

  “Come on,” she said to Hest. “Someone has to be first.”

  They sidled their way through the crowd after Reln. Their sisters and brothers fell in behind.

  -=o=-

  Gama bolted awake to Home softly crooning Kroot kroot to get her attention. The night was deep and dark. Home had never woken her at night before.

  Frarm was with them again. He felt more comfortable with kin who’d also seen something strange and knew the truth of it in their hearts, he’d said. Gama had guessed that his dwelling-mates still loved him, but didn’t particularly want him around, as though seeing strange things might be catching. In the thin light, she could make out Frarm-and Hest-shaped lumps on their cots. Both slept fitfully, turning first to one side and then to the other, as though they couldn’t find a way to be comfortable.

  What is it? she sent to Home.

  Something is here, Home sent.

  What do you mean — something?

  I can’t say. There are no words, no pictures I can send you. But something is here. I feel it.

  Her breath was shallow in her chest. Home was right. Something felt wrong with the room, with the air. Wrong in the same way that the shimmer in the sky was wrong. She couldn’t put words to it either, couldn’t describe what made her skin feel suddenly clammy, or the air seem cold and thick.

  Hest rolled over and sat up, a movement of shadow in the room. I feel it too.

  The air grew thicker, colder, harder to breathe. Hest coughed, and Gama made out the quick movement of his hand covering his mouth, trying to stifle a second. It didn’t matter, though. Whatever was there saw them, or smelled them, or had some other way to track them. It knew every move they made — Gama felt that as true.

  Frarm pulled his blanket tight around himself — a small movement that Gama could barely see in dim room Why is it so cold? Frarm sent. I’m shivering.

  Both of you, she sent, come to my cot. I think we should be close, keep hold of each other.

  Hest threw off his covers but walked slowly, as if afraid to bump into something in the empty space between his cot and hers. When he reached her, he sat gingerly and took her hand. She squeezed back and made sure they both had a firm hold.

  You come too, Frarm.

  He slung his legs over the side of his cot, but froze there.

  The air began vibrating, the individual bits bouncing against her skin. As cold as the room had felt before, it turned warm now. Sweat beaded on her scalp. She squeezed Hest’s hand tight.

  Come be with us, she sent to Frarm. Quickly. It’s safer if we’re together.

  Was that true? Anything that could snatch up Carding House could likely grab three little soumyo as easily as she could pick up a gathering basket. But it would feel safer if they were together.

  Frarm seemed to gather his courage and jumped from his cot — the thud of his feet hitting the floor sounding as loud as thunder to her. He didn’t walk slowly as Hest had. He ran, leaning so far forward that halfway across the room he stumbled and nearly fell. He pulled himself upright and stopped. Gama locked her eyes on his, as though her gaze could drag him the rest of the way.

  A strange noise joined the pressing air in the room — like whirling bugs skimming past her earholes. And behind that, a low hum. And a faint smell, like something bitter burning a distance away. Hest coughed again. Her gaze slid to him for a bare moment.

  When she looked back, Frarm was gone.

  “Hest!” she yelped, and thought-talked, Frarm, where are you? Are you all right? Frarm! No reply came back. Worry blasted through her. Her spots flared blue-red. One spot lit soft-green-yellow — relief that it hadn’t been Hest who was taken. Or her.

  Home called to the other structures, likely telling the other structures what had happened. Her chest felt tight, her muscles cramped. The heavy chill in the air lifted and she managed to send Home a request to turn up the lights. Frarm’s cot was empty of anything but his crumpled blankets. Her heart pounded against the cage of her ribs.

  “What happened?” she whispered to Hest.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered back. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  Are we next?

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  Get out! Home sent. Get out now!

  They ran. Home threw open its door. Reln stood just o
utside the door and grabbed her hand as she crossed the threshold. It looked like all their sisters and brothers had fled their dwellings too. Why not? Staying indoors hadn’t protected Frarm.

  “Go to Community Hall.” Reln’s voice was low and firm. “Calm yourselves. We’ll need you to tell us what happened.”

  Her mouth felt dry and her neck hot from the colors flaring on her emotion spots. Hest wasn’t doing any better. He tried to send her a thought but it was jumbled. They followed Reln’s orders and went straight to Community Hall, only half-seeing their corenta-kin standing with Reln and staring after them.

  Hall had opened its door only a little way. Gama had to turn sideways to slip through. The structures had been talking to each other in their own speech as she and Hest made their way across Reev, but Hall turned silent the moment she passed its jambs.

  They walked all the way to the front of Hall — the further they were from their dwelling the better Gama felt — but didn’t step up to the dais. They hunkered down on the floor pillows instead, close to each other, shoulders and hips touching. Gama hoped Reln wouldn’t make them stand up there with him. She knew it was a false hope. Their sisters and brothers would want the whole story and she and Hest were the only ones left who could tell it.

  “You tell it,” she whispered to Hest. She couldn’t bear the thought of describing the moment of Frarm’s disappearance, of losing a brother — it was too awful.

  “You woke up first,” he whispered back. “You saw more.”

  “Felt it before I saw anything.” A tremble ran across her shoulders as she remembered the odd way the air felt. The sensation that something unknown was there among them.

  “You’ll have to tell it,” Hest said. “I’ll pick up the story as soon as I can.”

  She rubbed her thighs with both hands and nodded.

  Hall’s wide double-doors flung open and banged against the walls. Their corenta-kin flooded inside, their necks ablaze, cutting off conversations as they crossed the threshold. Her heart beat double-time, watching them find pillows and sit, watching Reln walking fast toward her and Hest.

  “Come.” Reln clearly expected them to follow him onto the dais.

  Gama and Hest climbed up. Reln gave her a look. She drew a deep breath and began.

  Her sisters and brothers listened in the silence manners demanded, but she saw their throats flash with the color of their emotions — gray-red with shock, red-blue with anxiety, brownish-pink with uncertainty. Here and there a throat lit with the soft-green-yellow of relief — glad in their hearts that it was Frarm and not them. She almost stopped talking, seeing that, and felt her own throat warm with the gray-green of revulsion. Yet she’d felt the same relief that it hadn’t been Hest or her.

  When she reached the part of the story where Hest woke, he stepped forward and took it from there.

  “We couldn’t see much in the darkness,” he said, “but each of us, especially Home, felt something was wrong.”

  Listening to Hest brought the memories back more clearly than telling them had. Her stomach fluttered and her throat lit purple-gray with worry for Frarm, worry about her brothers, sisters, and corenta--what these events meant and what might happen in the future. She glanced at Reln and saw the same color on his throat.

  She heard Hall talking to the other structures in their own language, likely sharing Hest’s words with them. It was easy to see how their corenta-kin felt, but impossible with the structures. A soumyo couldn’t know what a structure thought or felt unless it chose to say. Were most of the structures as panicked as Home had been, or as calm as Hall seemed to be? Better to wonder about that than think on what had taken Frarm.

  Hest finished talking and stepped back.

  “What do we do now?” someone in the back yelled. “Nowhere is safe. No one is safe.”

  Hall’s doors swung open and Vonti ran into the hall. Gama, Hest, and Reln saw him first, from their places on the dais. His neck was lit gray-red with shock and dark-gray with worry. Gama felt her own neck warm, her colors a match for Vonti’s. She held her hand out toward him. All the seated kin turned to follow Gama’s gaze.

  Vonti blinked quickly a few times. “The food is gone.” His voice was raspy with despair. “Reln sent me to check on it when Gama’s dwelling sounded the alarm. I’ve searched the communiteria, the storage houses, all the dwellings. There’re scraps, but most of the food has vanished.”

  Voices rose up, wild bursts of sound that Gama couldn’t make sense of. A question would float loud above the general noise, then sink in the rising tide of words. Reln raised his arms for quiet, but the corenta-kin were caught in their own concerns, their own fears. From the dais, Gama watched some of her sisters and brothers storm out the doors. She saw corenta-kin clutching each other, and wide-eyed Vonti surrounded, his brothers and sisters throwing questions at him. His neck flashed blue-red with anxiety, then orange-yellow with confusion. She jumped from the dais and cut through the crowd, shouldering aside those who pressed at him. She elbowed her way to stand next to him and leaned in to speak in his earhole.

  “Do you have any more to say, Vonti? Anything to add?”

  He shook his head. His emotion spots changed colors so quickly, it was hard to keep track of his feelings.

  “Do you want to stay here?”

  He shook his head again.

  She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. Hest came up beside them and stepped in front, gently nudging aside anyone who tried to ask Vonti more questions or block their way.

  The corenta-kin who’d gone outside were rushing toward their dwellings. Gama didn’t know what they expected to find — that Vonti had told an untruth? That the food was still there? She didn’t know which frightened her more — Frarm’s disappearance, their food being gone, or corenta-kin beginning to doubt each other’s words.

  Vonti’s dwelling opened the door only a crack when they reached it, little different than how Hall had greeted Hest and her. Vonti ran his hands over his face and sighed loudly.

  “Thank you, Gama. Everyone kept asking the same questions — was the food really gone? Was I sure? Had I checked their dwelling?” He threw up his hands. “What could I tell them? Yes, I kept saying, yes, but they wouldn’t stop. They kept asking.”

  Hest stroked his throat, to comfort him. The colors on Vonti’s throat slowly paled.

  “I’m going inside,” Vonti said. “Thank you.”

  They nodded and turned. Gama heard the soft thunk of the door shutting firmly behind them.

  They didn’t talk on the path back to their dwelling. What words were there to say? Gama wasn’t surprised when Home didn’t throw open the door as they approached. It was frightened too. Carding House had disappeared, which meant structures were at risk just like birds, beasts, and soumyo.

  We’re here, she sent, even though they were certainly close enough for Home to sense them. The door still didn’t open.

  Is something wrong?

  Home sent, Go away. Go away, the both of you.

  Please, Home. Open your door.

  No, it sent. You saw the beasts, and the beasts disappeared. You worked in Carding House, and it vanished. Frarm came to stay, and Frarm is gone. You’ve drawn this misery inside our walls. I won’t let you in.

  Seven

  They stood outside Home, stunned.

  Turn around and walk away no different than we would on any other day, Gama sent to Hest, too angry to speak out loud and let Home hear the panic she felt.

  We should talk to Home, he sent back. Reason with it. You’ve convinced it to change its mind before.

  Panic and anger bubbled in her — showing on her throat. She knew Home, its stubborn streak. It was unlikely to change its mind. She turned her back toward their dwelling. Home won’t let us in. Maybe later, but not now. We need tell Reln what’s happened, and find a place to stay until Home comes to its senses.

  Hest touched one of the spots glowing like fire on her throat. All right. Let’s find Reln.<
br />
  Gama put her hand over the back of her neck and walked with her head down. Panic that could be seen could easily be spread. She lifted her head once they’d gotten nearly halfway to Reln’s and she’d begun to feel calmer.

  Prill met them at the door. Gama’s spots had quieted, but still showed enough color that one blue-red spot of anxiety bloomed on Prill’s own throat in response.

  “Reln,” Hest said, and Gama looked past Prill at their guide coming toward the door.

  The words tumbled out of her. “Home won’t let us inside. It blames us for the strange things that have happened. The brez disappearing, and the empty fields. And for Frarm. But Hest and I didn’t do anything. It was just circumstance. We have nowhere to stay.”

  Reln reached out to touch her throat, then seemed to think better of it.

  “You can stay here until this is straightened out,” he said. “I’ll go tomorrow and speak with your dwelling myself.”

  -=o=-

  Alone, Gama paced in the sleeping quarters Prill, Hest, and she now shared, restless, her mind churning. Hest and Prill had woken early, but Gama knew Hest was waiting for her to join him in the receiving room. She felt odd and alone without Hest, but she didn’t feel like rushing to meet him either. Prill’s hipwraps, cloaks, and foot casings lay strewn everywhere. Gama kicked a hipwrap, watching the fabric lift into the air and fall back to the floor.

  At least Prill didn’t seem to mind sharing with Hest and her. Was glad for the company, Gama thought. Three nights had passed since Home had turned them away, and their dwelling still wouldn’t have them back, no matter what Reln said — a breach of manners nearly as strange as any of the other recent occurrences.

  May I ask a question? Gama sent to Reln’s dwelling as she secured Prill’s fallen cloak on a wall peg.

  Of course, the dwelling sent. But note before you do that I am known for truthfulness, not kindness.

  Gama nodded, though she was never sure how much physical movement structures could read. In any event, she preferred truth to false kindness.