by Zen DiPietro
Justin stepped away from the pantry and crossed to the middle of the kitchen. “Not sure, but I’ve already made a dozen or so loaves, and I haven’t made a dent. I think we’d have enough for a couple weeks, if we were careful. And that’s just the baking supplies. There’s a lot of jarred, canned, and dried produce, as well. Quite a stockpile.”
“Do you cook too, or just bake?” Azure opened a cabinet door and poked around amongst the contents. She hadn’t yet discovered any appliances like a mixer or a dishwasher, but the long countertops provided plenty of workspace. A rustic kiln oven and a range top seemed to be the only means of cookery. At least they were both mana-powered, and the pantry was well-stocked with power cells. In spite of the primitive conditions, the kitchen felt homey and comfortable to her.
Justin ran a hand over a thick wooden cutting board, inspecting it for splinters. “I’m not a great cook. I can make a hot meal, and maybe improve on the ingredients a little. But I grew up baking with my dad, and always enjoyed it, so it’s kind of a hobby.”
“Why do you wield a sword instead of a measuring cup? You could have your own bakery.”
He grimaced, looking comically cute. “Do you know what a baker’s hours are? Up before dawn to make fresh bread before people wake up. No way. Besides, I like the inconsistency of being a blade. You never know what you’ll be asked to do. Maybe security for some big event, maybe bodyguard duty. And I don’t have to be married to my job. I’m not forced to keep a schedule or stay in one place. Owning a bakery would really tie me down.”
Azure plucked a half-used jar of jam from the cabinet and rolled it between her hands. “Are you married to a person? The variability you crave sounds like murder on a relationship.”
He barked out a laugh of surprise. “No. Not married. Not in a relationship, either. I’m free to wander Terath and follow my sword and bake bread when the whim takes me.”
She leaned back against the counter. She placed the jam jar in midair, then floated it over to him on a precise bubble of mana.
With a bemused expression, he plucked it from the air and regarded it somewhat suspiciously.
He placed the jam on the counter alongside the cutting board. “This place has no appliances, and the old-fashioned method of kneading bread is very hands-on. With some help, I’d be able to turn out more bread each day.”
“You want me to knead bread?” It was definitely a departure from her usual occupation.
“You’d make the ideal baker’s apprentice, with that mana of yours.”
He’s quick on the uptake, she thought with approval. She’d never done much baking, but what else did she have to do with her free time? Always open to a new experience, she decided to give it a try. There were worse things she could be drafted into doing. Better to select her own assignment.
“Show me what to do and I’ll see. One condition, though.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Donuts. You’ll owe me lots of donuts.” She usually enjoyed a donut on the first day of every week and she’d now missed out on her weekly treat. As she watched Justin carry a sack of flour from the pantry and heft it onto the counter, she had a feeling she’d be making up for the discrepancy soon.
The next afternoon, Kassimeigh met Luc and Izzy in the room that housed the young woman they’d met the previous day. It was a stark place with little to recommend it. Oddly, it was the only room in the place that offered a bed. It was simple and functional, as was the bedding that covered it. No decorations littered the walls, and no other furniture joined the bed. The only personal effects Kassimeigh saw were several short stacks of printed books. Two stood next to the bed and two by the room’s single window. Three leaned against a closet door.
The woman sat on the bed with her feet planted on the floor. Green eyes stared out of a thin, pale face. Kassimeigh surmised that she might have suffered abuse. Her bony limbs hung from her body like unwanted burdens. Kassimeigh had never seen a person in such ill health.
Luc crouched near the bed in an unthreatening posture. Kassimeigh was impressed by the compassion in his eyes and body language. “You said your name is Meli? My name is Luc.”
“Yes,” Meli said in a voice that sounded as though she rarely had occasion to use it. “Short for . . .” She thought for a moment. “Meli. That’s what my mother called me.”
Izzy’s tone was friendly, even maternal. She eased to the end of the bed and perched there, careful not to intrude on the woman’s space. “It’s nice to meet you, Meli. My name is Izzy Gin. How did you come to be in this place?”
She stared vacantly at the bare walls. “I’ve been here a long time. I had ribbons in my hair.”
Izzy nodded as if this made perfect sense. “So you’ve been here since childhood? Where are your parents?”
“My parents were dust, so I had to come.” She tucked a strand of greasy brown hair behind her ear.
Kassimeigh exchanged a look with Izzy and Luc. Did they dare hope that this woman had the answers they needed?
“Dust?” Izzy questioned.
Meli sighed. “I don’t know what I mean. Sometimes I don’t make sense.”
“Don’t worry,” Izzy folded her hands together. “We’ll help you work it out. First, we need to know who else lives here. You can’t possibly live here by yourself.”
“I sleep a lot. When I’m awake, usually he’s here. I don’t know why I’m awake if he isn’t here. You didn’t meet him?”
Izzy shook her head. “No, he wasn’t here, only you and some creatures, but those are gone now. Who is he, the one who lives here?”
“Oh, the bad things.” Meli’s nose wrinkled. “I’m glad they’re gone. Scary things. He makes them. Anguish, I mean. I think he wants them to be his friends.”
“Anguish is his name?”
“The only name I know.” Her shoulders scrunched forward and she drew her knees up to her chest.
“Where is Anguish now? Is he coming back?”
“Anguish always comes back. I don’t know where he went this time. Sometimes he’s gone a long time and sometimes not long at all. But it’s hard to tell when I’m sleeping.”
“I see. Well, if you were sleeping, are you hungry? What can we do for you?”
Meli startled to alertness, fully focusing on Izzy for the first time. “No one asks me what I want.” Her voice was full of wonder. “Ever.” She fell silent for a moment. “I’d love a grilled manyon sandwich and some tomato soup. A glass of juice?”
A burst of fear widened her eyes, as if she feared she’d asked too much. Kassimeigh wondered at the treatment she’d received to make her so skittish about the simple request of a sandwich.
Izzy bestowed a maternal smile. “Of course. I think we can manage it. I’ll see what we have, and be back in a little bit, okay? I’ll bring you something nice.”
Meli stared at the floor. “Okay. I’ll just lie down for a while. I might be asleep if you come back.” She lay back down on the bed with her feet hanging off the side.
Out in the hallway, the three regrouped. “What do you make of her?” Luc asked.
Izzy rubbed her finger along her jaw as she thought. “She’s not developmentally deficient. Her reasoning skills are compromised, but I can’t tell if it’s due to psychosis or trauma. She’s telling the truth as far as she understands it. There’s a childlike simplicity to her behavior. She may become more coherent and aware with time, or she may not.”
“Certainly, at the least, we can see that she’s fed and made healthy. The girl is half-starved.” Luc frowned. “Do you believe she’s a captive here? It’s the impression I got from what she said.”
“I had the same thought, but her mind is so murky. Her perceptions may not reflect reality. However, her physical state is a clue. Since she thinks this Anguish person creates the creatures,
and all signs point to the same, she’s likely a prisoner here. Perhaps a servant, taken when she was a child.”
A fragment of disquiet needled Kassimeigh. “How old do you think she is? Probably around my age? Mid-twenties, or so?”
Izzy and Luc both nodded agreement with the estimate.
“So she and I were children at the same time. And she made the comment about her parents being dust . . .” Kassimeigh was not so much speaking to the others now but thinking out loud. “And something about her eyes . . .”
A flare of insight marched her back into the room. She had a gut instinct, and when she had those, they were rarely wrong.
Meli sat up on the bed, startled.
“Meli? Camellia?” Kassimeigh demanded. “Are you Camellia of Umi Cabal?”
Meli’s eyes darted from side to side, as if doing mental calculations. “Camellia, of Umi Cabal. I know that. Camellia . . .” Her attention fixed on Kassimeigh and joy lit her features, heralding sudden clarity. “Yes!” She stood excitedly, stepping toward Kassimeigh. “Yes, I’m Camellia. From Umi Cabal!” She laughed with delight and relief.
Kassimeigh stepped close and peered into Meli’s face. “Camellia, I’m Kassimeigh. Do you remember me?”
Luc and Izzy, watching from the doorway, exchanged a look of surprise. Kassimeigh paid them no heed. She’d catch them up later.
Meli studied Kassimeigh. “Kassimeigh . . . Kassi? We played hopscotch?” Her voice pitched high with hopeful uncertainty.
“We did,” Kassimeigh agreed. She grasped Meli’s bony hand. “Were you in Umi Cabal when it turned to dust?”
Meli backed away from Kassimeigh and her face went blank. It was as though the past few minutes had never happened. Kassimeigh puzzled over Meli’s sudden retreat.
“I’m tired, I can’t talk to you. I need to sleep.” Meli slid back into the bed and turned toward the wall. Meli had told them all she was going to, for the time being.
Kassimeigh hesitated for a moment, then joined Luc and Izzy, who had retreated to the hallway.
“I remember her,” Kassimeigh told them. “She lived in my cabal for a couple years. I think her family moved from another cabal. I remember playing with her a few times.” She frowned, trying to recall more.
“You jogged her memory, which is a wonderful start.” Izzy bounced lightly on her toes. “You reminded her of who she is, and she remembered. That gives me great hope. We might be able to restore her memories, with time. Rooting her in her own identity is a big step in helping her return to reality.”
“She might have been in Umi Cabal when it turned to ash. That means this Anguish might have been the one who kidnapped her and destroyed Umi Cabal. Though why he’d want to take one particular child, I don’t know.” Kassimeigh was tantalized by the new possibilities.
“She may be the key to unraveling the disappearances of Umi Cabal and Sorrow. But getting the information we need may prove difficult.” Luc ran a hand over his scalp. “Your talents will be key, no doubt.” He nodded to Izzy.
Izzy studied the form on the bed. “Of course I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll try to form a friendly relationship with her. I’ll assume her primary care so I can see to her needs and gain her trust.”
They agreed to stay in close contact and when they reached the main corridor, split to go different directions. Kassimeigh paused when she felt the soft weight of Izzy’s hand on her shoulder. She knew Izzy was subtly pledging her support of Kassimeigh during what might be a tumultuous time for her. She patted Izzy’s hand. She appreciated the caring, but her past did not haunt her.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.” Kassimeigh stepped away.
Izzy acknowledged the offer with a head tilt. “Likewise.”
An evening of meditation had helped Kassimeigh prepare for the difficulties that lay ahead the next day. Confronting a living link to her past had been startling, but she hoped it meant they’d come closer to finding resolution to the mystery of the two missing towns.
A good night’s sleep had also been good for her. Vigor and purpose sang through her as she sailed down the wide hallway from her room to the large room that had been converted into a commons. Her boots rapped a satisfying beat against the stone floor. When she reached the commons, she found herself among high spirits and excess energy.
Some troops dug into breakfast at makeshift tables. Those who had already finished eating chatted with friends while examining their weapons. Troops sat in chairs or sprawled across the floor, giving the room a vaguely chaotic sense. But they were managing with the materials available to them, and no one seemed to mind the inadequate seating.
Kassimeigh noticed Arc across the room. He blended in amongst the troops, talking and smiling. She gave herself a moment to admire him. She imagined he could fit into any group of people, no matter their interests or personalities. He just had a knack for it. It was a knack that she couldn’t imagine having or wanting for herself, but she admired the quality in him. She caught his eye and smiled at him, but didn’t have time to join him. She had an agenda for the day and needed to get to it.
In the kitchen, she grabbed some fruit and bread for breakfast, then also took a few freshly-baked cookies. They made a comfortingly warm bundle when she wrapped them up in a napkin. She filled insulated bottles with water and twisted the caps securely to prevent leaks. Stuffing it all into a bag that she swung over her shoulder, she made a mental note to discover the identity of their baking benefactor.
She approached Meli’s room and found Izzy within. The reader chatted airily with Meli about the virtues of different flowers.
Kassimeigh slid the bag off her shoulder. “I thought I might come up here and have breakfast with you, if you don’t mind.”
Meli ducked behind Izzy’s shoulder.
“I have bread, fruit, and some cookies,” Kassimeigh continued, as if she hadn’t noticed Meli’s attempt to hide.
“Cookies?” Meli’s head popped back up. “I love cookies.”
“You’re welcome to them.” Kassimeigh set the cookies and a bottle of water on a side table that hadn’t been in the room before. The sweet scent of the warm cookies filled the air.
Meli helped herself to one and took a bite. “Thanks. It’s yummy.”
“I can’t take credit for making them, although I do like to make cookies. Do you?” Kassimeigh knew that to earn Meli’s trust, she must let the woman get to know her, by whatever means was relevant.
“Hmm, baking.” Meli chewed thoughtfully. “I like it. It gives me something to do.”
Izzy and Kassimeigh let the silence stretch. They nibbled on the food, hoping to encourage Meli to continue talking.
“I baked a chocolate cake once,” Meli mused. “It was my birthday, but only I knew it. Still, I found a recipe in a book and made a cake.”
“I bet it was good.” Izzy set her cookie on a napkin.
“It wasn’t bad, though it was a little flat in the middle. After that, I practiced and they come out better now.”
Meli’s expression was much more focused than it had been the night before. Kassimeigh wondered what Izzy had learned so far.
She had so many questions, yet the answers she needed hid beneath a worryingly tenuous link.
“Will you show us around the fortress today?” Izzy asked. “I bet you know everything there is to see.”
Meli shrugged. “Sure, I’ll show you around, but there isn’t a lot to see. It’s a pretty simple place. The kitchen is decent. I cook in there. The dining room is big, though I don’t know why since there are so few people ever here. The bathrooms are nice enough, big tubs for a nice soak. The arboretum is probably the best part.”
“Arboretum?” Kassimeigh asked in surprise. She wouldn’t have thought much of anything could grow in Apex, and no one had men
tioned an arboretum to her. But then she had remained quite occupied during their short duration at the fortress.
“More of an indoor garden, but at least it has some flowers and some color.” Kassimeigh noted how pretty Meli was when she smiled. The expression highlighted a wholesome attractiveness. “I can show you.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Izzy agreed. “I’d welcome some nice smells and pretty sights.”
After they finished their food, Meli led them down the hallway and across to the other side of the fortress.
The northeast corner of the fortress contained a large room that boasted a garden. The floor was an outdoor-style cobblestone rather than the smooth stone flooring in the rest of the fortress. Kassimeigh appreciated the natural materials. Most modern buildings consisted of sleek, highly-durable synthetics that resembled natural materials. Like so many other things she’d seen and experienced in Apex, the fortress was a novelty.
Many pots of trees and plants dotted the edges of the short rows of raised flowerbeds interspersed with trellises twined with greenery. There was even a large arbor in the center, with a small water fountain. A great deal of effort had been put into creating this garden. Maintaining it must be a major chore, considering the hard conditions of Apex. But then, Meli had implied that she had nothing but time, and Kassimeigh supposed this room’s entertainment and enjoyment made it a valuable pastime.
“This is lovely, Meli, we had no idea this was here,” Izzy remarked. She did a slow twirl to take it all in. “Who takes care of it?”