The Sundered

by Ruthanne Reid

  The water felt like home to him. I understand he thinks it's alive. But it's water. It's just water. “Oh, now it hurts the water, not you? You're contradicting yourself.”

  He says nothing.

  “Harry, could your Sundered please give us a hand over here?” Demos calls sharply from the other side of the landfall.

  “Aakesh, go help with the water.”

  “Is there something else I can do for you, my master?” he says, as if I'd need him for things besides buckets.

  “No. Pick up your skirt and go get water. None of my people or me get hurt, according to my definition. Got it?”

  “Yes, my lord.” The princess isn't happy, but he does as I say.

  “Finally,” mutters Demos, but not quietly enough that I don't hear it.

  I stare at my maps, seeing nothing. I'm tired and paranoid, and I'm taking my grouchiness out on a stupid slave. This isn't how I was raised.

  It takes Aakesh about thirty seconds to fill the buckets before returning. Make it right, Harry. Be nice. “Who gave you that kilt, anyway?”

  “I gave it to myself, my lord.”

  “You did?” I look at him, then back at the maps. “Is this something all first-tier do?”

  He doesn't answer for a moment. The fire crackles. Toddy burns himself slightly and yips.

  “I chose,” said Aakesh carefully.

  I look at him again. “Why?”

  “Dignity.” Firelight plays over my skin, over the skin and clothes of my Travelers, but it doesn't touch his. He could be floating eyes just hovering there, if the night was a little darker, but because of those eyes, he can't hide. They're on me. Fixed. Steady. Unafraid.

  Does he think he’s dignified? “Dignity. Your dignity?”

  He inclines his head.

  Dignity. If I want the best results from him, I have to consider his ego. “I'll remember that,” I say, and go back to my maps. “I'm sorry for snapping at you. I don't want anyone hurt. We need water. Humans need water, or we die. You know?”

  He watches me. Like what I'm saying is insulting. “Yes, my lord.” He stands again. “As a matter of some note, your maps will make more sense if you remember my actions in the smoke room.” He saunters away.

  Wait. What?

  I look at the maps. His actions in the smoke room?

  “Harry, we're cooking,” calls Demos.

  “Thanks.” Everybody's stripping now, getting ready to bathe, women on one side of the fire, men on the other. I should be joining them, using my own bucket.

  Actions in the smoke room?

  What did Aakesh do in the smoke room? He stood there and stared at me. He tricked me. He—wait a second. Am I crazy? I have to be seeing things. “Aakesh!” I'm insane. This can't possibly work.

  “Yes, my lord?” says Aakesh so innocently.

  “Can you ... okay, can you do what you did before? Lifting the lines up, like they were wires or something. Can you do that again?”

  Innocent Aakesh is innocent. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Okay. I want you to do that with these four new maps, but can you make it so I can ... dammit, I'm trying to phrase this right. Can you make it so I can move the four maps separately in the air like puzzle pieces, so I can figure out how they fit together?”

  “Yes, my lord,” he says, and stands smoothly above my parchment. He holds his hands palm-down over it and pulls the air.

  The map-wires rise. He makes it look effortless.

  Everybody goes quiet. The fire crackles. Aakesh stands there, palms flat in front of him like there's an invisible wall. When I touch one set of wires, it moves. Oh, this is perfect.

  The map I drew on the upper left actually goes in the center, and the upper right one overlays it ... just ... so. Yes! This is working!

  “Harry?” breathes Toddy in the stunned quiet.

  “Just a second.” Touch and slide, like coasters on a table. Lower right, that comes over ... no, put that back. That's not it.

  “Harry?” says Demos.

  “Will you shut up and give me a minute? I'm on to something.” Focus, don't lose it, don't lose the way it looks in your head—the lower left needs to come up and over, just a little bit off center, and the lower right slides into place and—

  This map isn't new at all. But ... but it's crazy. It makes no sense.

  “Harry, that's amazing!” Sandra says.

  “Is that ... a new map?” stammers Demos.

  “How is he doing that?” Tomas demands, like I've offended him.

  “He's first-tier, so he can do these things. Gimme a second.” I recognize the city-dots I'm looking at now, but they're impossible. That city, that placement, next to this city, means that somehow I'm seeing cities from both sides of the planet, east and west merged. Like the world's gone flat, or invisible. I'm seeing through the planet. “Aakesh.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Could you put this back on the blank parchment, big as it can be? Don't mess this up for me. Please.”

  He looks at me, measuring. Maybe judging. Come on, Aakesh, throw me a bone.

  He nods and swings his hands down, pushing the lines down onto the parchment like he's flattening a big pillow.

  The lines stick. Those two marks near the center, they'd be Ego and Id in the Eastern Hemisphere—but the one to the left of them would be Ottowa, and that's Western Hemisphere. Galle, Tibet, and Uchi all in a row racing north—those are Eastern Hemisphere. But that dot between them, Liberia, would be Western Hemisphere. This is useless. What am I supposed to do with this? This has to be some kind of clue.

  “Harry?” Toddy sounds spooked. My Travelers stand around gawking at me, backlit by the fire and looking very scared of Aakesh, and that's just ... well, that's crazy.

  I've got control of him. I do. “Dinner ready yet?” I ask in my most serious leader-voice, and it scatters them like a rock thrown at a school of fish. They all go back to their places, cooking, working, sorting. Hopefully, the fish isn't burned.

  Demos watches me for a long moment, then walks away.

  This map. This map. I know there's a purpose here. This has something to do with the Hope. “Thank you, Aakesh.”

  He tilts his head forward in that half-nod of his, a gracious, kingly gesture.

  Could he ... could he have been trying to show me something, when he gave me my father’s map to draw on?

  No. No way. Screw that thought. I trace this precious new map. Maybe it's a missing city-dot that'll clue me in, or—

  “Dinner's ready!” calls Toddy, still shaky, but proud of himself. He handled himself well, all things considered.

  I think, for once, so did I.

  ● ●

  ● CHAPTER 10 ●

  The Rescue

  Why did it have to rain?

  Morning was fine, breakfast was great, and then it started to drizzle and that meant no maps. Okay, I thought. So I'll go by memory for a while, right?

  Yeah. Then it started to pour.

  So much for landfall, since they're too slickly dangerous in rain to use. So much for maps, since there is no way I'm exposing them to this much water. So much for navigating or doing anything beyond making sure our boats don't fill with water while we struggle to move forward.

  This is a real deluge. No lightning, which is good, but a heavy gray rain, straight as steel poles and so curtain-thick we can barely see each other's boats. We stay close together so nobody gets lost. I consult Demos' compass, then paddle forward, and everyone tries to keep up.

  We want to go northwest, toward the major city of Tenisia. We're going there first because it just feels like I should. Because I miss the place I grew up in. Because I need to ground myself while I think about the new map. Because there's a man there who might just have all my answers.

  In this rain, I can't explore the area we're paddling through. I want to. On my map, it's blank.

  I hate this.

  We paddle, stopping at ten-minute intervals to remove the buildup of wa
ter sloshing around our boots. Aakesh follows us, I guess, but I sure as hell can't see him. There are no tufts for him to jump onto, so he must be in the water, which gives me the willies, but whatever. I feel him in my head. He's mine. Nothing's changed.

  Day comes. Day goes. The rain doesn't let up. Absolutely no one is in a good mood when it gets too dark to see again, especially since it's far too wet for torches.

  We're soaked through, like rags left to float in an abandoned tub. I've had enough. I don't know what he can do. We're lost. I could just scream. So I do: “Aakesh!”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  I jump. He's in my boat. He sits across from me like he's been there the whole time, just being invisible and letting me row him. The hell. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  His lips twitch. Great, I've amused him.

  “All present and accounted for, Harry!” Demos bellows, like he does every half hour.

  “Thanks!” I shout back. My Travelers are capable, which is great, but we still need to get out of this rain. Aakesh watches me, and is he freaking dry? Yeah, he is, and doesn't it figure? “Are we anywhere near a city?”

  “No, my lord.”

  Dammit.” We have to be close to something. “Water's up to the top of my feet. Bend, scoop, bail. Bend, scoop, bail.

  “That depends, my lord, on what you mean by that word,” says Aakesh.

  He really is as dry as a bone. His hair's doing that lifting-by-itself thing again, just the ends, curling up like there's a tiny breeze only he can feel.

  Bend, scoop, bail, pain, in, the, ass. Don't ask him to keep you dry too, Harry. An over-used Sundered is a dead Sundered, first-tier or not.” We need a place to get out of this rain and rest for a while and let our boats dry out. A place I can look at my maps safely. Sorry I'm impatient. I'm wet, Aakesh.”

  “You certainly are, my lord,” he says.

  At least my glare is dry. “Aakesh ... ”

  “There is a cavern.”

  “A mine?” I'm not sure I can handle those. Mines are tunnels dug deep into landfall. Black water drips from above in those places, places always dark, always stifling.

  “No, my lord,” says Aakesh. “It is safe, and it is very old.”

  Well. It sounds like a better option than staying outside. “And there's room for our boats, enough airflow for our torches and cooking fire and our breathing?” Ever tried to cook food in an enclosed space? Bad idea.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  I wipe water-heavy hair out of my eyes. It's hanging almost to my nose—I keep forgetting to cut it. “All right. Lead the way. Uh, please.”

  He points, and something about him is terrifying when he does. Implacable, like a statue, reminding me yet again that he's not human.

  I shudder. “Everybody, follow me! There's dry landfall this way!”

  Aakesh keeps that hand pointed as we row.

  It takes twenty minutes to find Aakesh's cavern.

  I can hear it before I see it. The sound of the rain changes, going weird, hollow, as if it's feeding off its own echo. At the same time, the impact changes from the constant tack-tacka-tack of rain on the water to something more muted, like water on rock with a healthy layer of mud or old grass between. But I can't see a thing. Not a thing.

  There's land and we can't see it. We're going to capsize.

  “Aakesh!” I shout, calling over the roar of water and rock and mud. “We need light!”

  He holds his free hand over his head, and his upturned palm fills with fire.

  The blast of it evaporates the rain in a huge burning circle all around my boat, and for a second it's so hot I can't even breathe. My Travelers scream and so do I, and I panic, thinking someone fell into the water.

  The fire calms in his hand, blazing up like the largest of torches. The air cools again, and the rain falls without steam. And he's. ... He's beautiful. His hair and skin gleam like ebony in firelight.

  He speaks in riddles. He plays nasty tricks like giving me my father's map to write on. He's so fragile that he protects his dignity like something precious. But he's this, too. This creature, powerful, static.

  And he is mine.

  We can see the cave up ahead now, a gaping mouth yawning over a decently-sized landfall. The cavern fills nearly the whole island—it's a sliver of beach and the inside of a cave. That's all.

  Oh, yeah. We're gonna be dry tonight. “Follow me!” I call to my Travelers, sink my hook-and-rope onto the bank, and pull myself to shore.

  I'm so wet my clothes are glued to my skin, and every movement is an effort.

  Toddy gets a fire started, which is still fun when you're fifteen and green. It's a really big fire, warm and perfect. We start stripping right away.

  You learn not to be too modest traveling. Sure, there are some basic rules, like not actually screwing where people can see you, but that's different. Context is everything.

  Peeling off these clothes is like shedding some kind of skin, and everybody grunts or groans in relief. Girls on that side, guys on this—the flame is all we get for privacy. Nobody cares.

  I feel stupid-grubby, and I still smell like those damn Soothsayer flowers. Ugh.

  The cavern is ... okay, I'll say it: cavernous. It looks hewn, like somebody dug it out with a thousand spoons. I have no idea how far back it goes. The path angles down behind us like a throat, and I have no interest in following it.

  “Wouldn't it be funny if the Hope was down there?” Tomas asks as he walks by, half-erect for whatever reason and strutting smugly.

  You'd think he got the girls instead of his big brother, but I know better. “Aakesh, is the Hope of Humanity back there?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “There you go, then.” I turn away. My balls don't feel like they're trying to climb inside me for warmth anymore, so it's time to heat my backside. Ah, yeah. Fire is the best. The floor is soft, clean sand, and it feels absolutely wonderful under my toes.

  Toddy gets something cooking pretty quickly. Somebody cracks open that bottle of whiskey, and I'm not going to tell them no. Not now. They earned the right to warm up.

  Kaia and Sandra huddle together, a little more modest than the guys, who just kinda sprawl wherever with legs in different hemispheres. Girls are so funny.

  This cavern really does look made, somehow. I can't stop wondering what might be back there, down the throat of this funny place. “Everybody comfortable? Okay. Make a note. We're never going back to Danton.”

  That gets some laughter. Point for me.

  Whiskey really helps.

  One by one, we finish our duties, scrubbing things out, checking the boats, getting buckets for Aakesh to fill so we can bathe by the entrance.

  What does he see when he looks at us?

  I know he's watching things I can't see. I want to see what he sees. I close my eyes and feel.

  Colors bloom.

  I inhale and hold it, keeping my eyes closed. I'm better at keeping myself separate this time, as I see through his weird eyes.

  How can such a rag-tag group of humans be so lovely? Layers upon layers of light, all different, play in the air over us like flickering flames, making even the ugliest of us beautiful. Everyone's got colors of their own, earth colors, or spice colors, or—ew, Tomas. Old-blood colors.

  There's Kaia—she's all light lavender and green and shifting pale blue, and there's a streak of bright yellow connecting her to Demos, Tomas, and Jax. I can see who she's slept with. Hahaha!

  Sandra's are the loveliest colors I've ever seen. Her color-flames flicker higher and cleaner than anyone's, pure, like they've been cleansed—grass-greens and sky-blues and rose-reds, nature colors, palpable as burying my arms to the elbows in flowers. I've never really seen her before. I mean, she's there. We've barely spoken. But she's ... she's really interesting to watch.

  “Harry!” Tomas shoves me so hard I bite my tongue.

  I smack my hand over my mouth. “Ow! Dammit, Tomas!” The colors are gone. All the speci
alness, all the extra vision and fire-like auras, gone, and all that's left is a bunch of dirty naked people bitching about their dinner. And my tongue is bleeding. Tomas looms at me, so I yell at him. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  He doesn't have the grace to look guilty. “There's a weird smell coming from the back of this cave. It smells like alcohol.”

  “What?” I stand, dusting sand from my buttocks as we walk toward the throat of the cavern.

  He's right. It smells like somebody spilled a whole crate of wine back here. “Okay, that's weird,” I allow.

  Tomas licks his lips nervously. “Look. I don't know. But maybe there's already somebody in here, you know? Maybe a permanent base, or another group of Travelers, or pirates, or something, but whatever, I just suddenly wonder if we ought to be staying here.”

  Aakesh wouldn't do that to me, would he?

  I didn't specify that we'd be the only ones using it. I take a few steps toward the slope into darkness. It really is like a throat. There's no light, no hint of smoke, no sounds. “Tomas, I don't think anybody's down there.”

  He looks fidgety anyway. He's even lost that semi he was sporting so proudly before.

  “Okay, look. I'll check it out with Aakesh. All right? Think you can get some sleep then?”

  “I'm not a little boy,” he mumbles, and goes trotting back to plop down by the fire with his shoulders hunched, like I personally kicked his sand castle.

  Big baby. “Hey, Aakesh. We're exploring now.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” he says right beside my ear.

  I nearly jump all the way to the roof. “Don't do that!”

  “My apologies, my lord,” he says with a tell-tale lip-twitch.

  Blah. For somebody who's all about dignity, he's got a pretty stupid sense of humor. “Look, is it safe down there? For me?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “No harm may come to me at all. This includes not being trapped. Being trapped counts as harm.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Good enough, I guess. “Light, please.”

  He raises his hand, but doesn't need such a big explosion this time to light my way.

  The sand slopes down ahead of us, curving out of sight so I can't see what's coming beyond the dancing shadows. It's time to go down the stone-throat into the gullet of the world, and not think about the fact that we're going below the black water.