by Jade Mere
Dyraien finished the tour in a larger room on the second floor close to his bedchamber. “This will be your workroom. I’ll pick up a drafting table when I go to Edgewater. That’s the town nearest to here where I conduct my business when I’m away from the capital. Until then, try to make the room your own. You’ll be working here for the next few months. I want you to be comfortable.” And then he said his goodbyes and headed off.
Tahki stood alone in the room. He could feel the weight of the castle walls pressing in around him. A part of him felt the need to stand close to the door so he could run, like the walls somehow wanted to trap him. But that was only nerves from his bad dream last night. He could easily fit several tables in here. Though the castle walls absorbed light, the windows gave him more than enough to work by. If he purchased some furniture, maybe some lightning root lanterns, a rug to take the chill off the floor, it could actually be a nice workspace.
His own workspace. His own job. Suddenly, Dyraien’s reasons for building the castle didn’t seem important. This was the start of a new life. A life he’d made on his own without his father’s influence.
As he started to plan where he’d place his table and tools, Gale stomped in. Her gray hair had been pulled into a tight bun, and her eyes narrowed in on him.
“Good morning, Gale,” Tahki said.
“Good morning, my ass. You and I need to talk. Now.”
Tahki frowned. Gale grabbed his wrist and yanked him down the steps with frightening strength.
“What’s going on?” Tahki asked.
She didn’t answer. They left the castle, traveling at an urgent pace. Low clouds hung in the sky. They started down the path off the cliff. In the distance, a mile or so away, he could see the gray ocean. The cliffside was covered in clumps of long brown grass. He nearly jogged as she strode on. How a woman old enough to be his grandmother could walk so fast he didn’t know. Her short legs were covered in blue veins that popped as she sped into the mist. He tripped over a few rocks in the dirt before reaching the wet sand fields. Gale’s house had been built at the base of the cliff and looked less like a house and more like a shoddy wooden shack. Two, maybe three rooms wide.
He yanked his arm away when they reached her porch. “Gale, I really insist you tell me what this is about.” Tahki panted. “I should be working, and—” Tahki cut short when she shoved open the door.
There, sitting at a small wooden table with a teacup in his hands, was Sornjia.
Chapter 6
TAHKI STARED at his brother’s face. Sornjia should have been far away, in another world. But here he was, sitting in Gale’s kitchen, clutching a cup of tea like it was just another lazy afternoon in the palace lounge.
“I don’t understand,” Tahki said aloud. It wasn’t to Gale or Sornjia, but to himself.
“I found him wandering around Edgewater,” Gale said. The wrinkles on her face twisted as she scowled. She looked a little scary. “He was walking around asking if anyone had seen someone who looked exactly like him. Thought it was you and you’d lost your mind.”
“She hit me over the head with a limp fish,” Sornjia said.
“What?” Tahki said.
Sornjia shrugged. “She slapped me across the back of the head with a trout.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a twin,” Gale said.
Tahki’s mouth felt dry. “I didn’t think I’d have to.”
“You’re angry,” Sornjia said. He spoke so matter-of-factly. Tahki wished he had a trout to smack him across the back of the head with too. Sornjia acted so casual, so innocent.
“Sornjia, why are you here?”
Sornjia set his cup down. “I was worried about you.”
“Worried? I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
Sornjia hugged himself and leaned forward in his chair. “After you left, my body felt like dust caught in a shadow. A bell rang in my head, the sound the sky makes right before it rains.” He looked at Tahki. “When I closed my eyes at night, I could see dark spiders skittering across my brain, and I knew I had to save you.”
“Is he ill?” Gale’s eyes narrowed. “Brain fever? Damaged nerves? You’d better be straight with me, Tahki. I put my neck on the line for you.” Her tone sounded dangerous, and despite her age, Tahki realized Gale wasn’t someone he wanted to cross.
“He isn’t ill,” Tahki said. “He just talks strange. But he’s harmless, I promise.”
“Harmless?” Gale scooped up a wooden spoon and shook it threateningly at Tahki. “Do you have any idea what would happen to both of you if Dyraien found out you brought your brother, who clearly isn’t right in the head, to a place that he has sacrificed so much to keep secret?”
“I’m perfectly fine in the head,” Sornjia said. “But sometimes, places and people and things visit me inside my mind. They show me things. They don’t stay long, and when they leave, everything goes back to normal.”
Gale stared at Sornjia.
“I didn’t bring him here,” Tahki said. “I don’t even know how he got here.”
“I traveled east and hid on a boat,” Sornjia said. He spoke like it was simple, like he wouldn’t have been imprisoned or put to death had someone seen him. “Much easier than forging documents. If you weren’t so afraid of water, you wouldn’t have had to go through the effort of creating a fake passport.”
Tahki thought Gale looked frightening before, but now, he thought for sure she’d ram that wooden spoon down his throat.
Instead, she eased herself into a chair across from Sornjia. “You’re going to tell me everything, or I swear, I’ll drag both your bodies out to sea and drown you.”
Tahki shuddered. He could think of no lie to cover up the mess Sornjia had made. So, over the next twenty minutes, he explained everything to her. He expected some kind of outburst from Gale, but she remained still, her hands folded together, contemplating.
“So you’re from Dhaulen’aii.” She shook her head. “I should have known. Your skin isn’t dark enough to be from the south islands, and it’s a little too golden.”
“I’ll send Sornjia home,” Tahki said. “No one will know he was here. Please, don’t tell Dyraien where I’m from. Let me keep this job.”
Gale’s head snapped up. “Of course you’ll keep your job. Telling Dyraien would only cause me trouble. I don’t exactly have a clean reputation.” Though Tahki didn’t ask, Gale went on. “I was once a renowned architect, you know. Unfortunately, my love for the bottle was greater than my desire to hold down a job. I’ve been fired eight times for working drunk. When I couldn’t land architectural work, I became a judge. Things went fine for a while, but I couldn’t redeem myself.”
“That sounds like an awful situation,” Sornjia said.
She licked her thin lips, a little saliva dripping down her chin. “It was, but it was my own fault. I was a washed-up old hag on the streets when Dyraien found me. He gave me a chance to work on this castle, gave me a chance to get sober again. Well, Rye helped with the sobering part.
“But I wasn’t right for the job. Even though I couldn’t turn the castle into a machine, he kept me on, put me in charge of finding someone to replace me. He said I would manage the new architect. Do you understand what that means? I’m responsible for you.”
Tahki swallowed. “Dyraien won’t find out. I promise.”
“Do you understand the risk of staying here?” Gale said. “If he discovers you’re from Dhaulen’aii, he’ll think you’re a spy. That means you’re dead. I’m dead. Your brother is dead.”
“But you don’t think I’m a spy, do you?”
Gale laughed. “A dead fish would make a better spy than you. You’re too hotheaded for that line of work.”
Tahki let the insult slide. “Dyraien won’t find out. Sornjia will leave right away.”
Sornjia shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”
“Gods, Sornjia, you already almost ruined me once. Don’t do it again.”
“That’s another th
ing,” Gale said. “You haven’t said ‘gods’ to anyone, have you? Only southern religions use that term.”
Tahki thought of Rye. “No. I haven’t.”
“Good. Now.” She turned to Sornjia. “Why do you feel the need to put my life in danger, young man?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Utmutóta. I don’t mean to put your life in danger, but there’s something wrong with that castle. Something oppressive. Suffocating. It makes the marrow in my bones itch.”
Tahki rubbed his wrist. “Sornjia, whatever crazy dream you had about the castle, it’s not real. I’ve been in every single room. There’s nothing wrong with it. You’re going home, today.”
“I can’t,” Sornjia said.
“Yes, you can.”
“No,” Sornjia said. “I mean, the ship I came over on doesn’t depart until end of summer.”
“Then I’ll forge documents for you.”
“You’ll need special paper for that,” Gale said.
“How long will it take to import?”
“A week, maybe.”
Tahki covered his face with his hands. This was too much for him. Turning the castle into a machine challenged him enough. He didn’t need Sornjia here to endanger him.
“All right,” Gale said. “Here’s what we’ll do: your brother will stay with me. I’ll keep him out of sight. We’ll order the paper, wait for it to arrive. Then you can forge his documents and he’ll be on his way. Dyraien has never visited here. Not once since I built it. And I can tell Rye I don’t want to be disturbed. He’s too respectful to ask why.” She cracked her knotted fingers. “You had better be worth the risk I’m taking.”
Tahki swallowed, feeling more pressured than before. It wasn’t much of a plan, but he could see no other option. He didn’t trust his brother to stay alone. His odd way of speaking drew too much attention.
“I’ll be a grain of rice in a sand dune,” Sornjia said. “No one will see me. I promise.”
“What about Father?”
“He thinks I’m at the winter cottage with you.”
Tahki felt a lump in his stomach. It had been growing larger ever since Dyraien had told him about the project.
“I’ll tell Dyraien I’d like to see your work every morning,” Gale said. “That will give you an excuse to come here and check on him. Until then, you better make progress on the castle, or this deal is off. Understand?”
Tahki nodded and took his leave. As he walked back to the castle, he told himself it would only be for a week. Just a week and things would be back to normal.
HIS THOUGHTS moved in a circular pattern: the castle, Rye, mad queen, Dyraien, a weapon, Sornjia. He stared up at the ceiling with his head against his lumpy pillow. The wind outside thrust across the windowpane. His best ideas came to him right before he fell asleep, so he always had a piece of paper and a pencil beside his bed, ready to jot down ideas.
None came.
He tried to sketch the castle in his mind, but the lines wouldn’t connect. After everything that had happened today, he found himself picturing his brother, remembering how Sornjia would often pop into his room when they were kids with some harebrained idea.
“I think we should drain the courtyard pool,” Sornjia said. “And turn it into a pen for injured animals.”
“They’d all eat each other,” Tahki said.
“We’ll make pens and separate each species.”
“The pool isn’t big enough.”
“Then we’ll dig a bigger pool. We’ll tunnel right to the other end of the world, and all the sands in the desert will drain into the ocean, just like they did thousands of years ago.”
And they’d continue on like that, Sornjia’s words growing stranger, Tahki’s frustration mounting, until their father, in his kind but stern way, told Sornjia he couldn’t save all the animals, and that only helping a few wouldn’t be fair, so it was best to let nature be.
Twins were supposed to have a special connection, but Tahki had no idea what his brother spoke about half the time. No one did, not even their father. Gotem said Sornjia was blessed. All his life, Tahki had felt like the peculiar one, the outcast, while Sornjia sat there prattling on about how plants grew better when you sang to them. In any other part of the world, Sornjia would be locked away for insanity. As children, Tahki hadn’t minded so much. Sometimes it would even benefit him, like if they were playing somewhere they weren’t allowed, Sornjia would know someone was coming before they were found. But this time was different. This time, Tahki’s life was at risk.
A loud thump sounded in the hall. Footsteps tapped outside his closed door. He sat up. Someone stopped in front of his room. He squinted through the dark and saw a shadow beneath the gap. Then the door handle rattled. It wasn’t locked. Anyone could simply turn it and walk inside.
“Rye?” Tahki said.
The rattling stopped.
He hopped out of bed and put his face close to the crack. “Sornjia?”
A low throaty noise resonated against the wood. Tahki’s heart drummed faster. The handle shook again. He grabbed it and held on.
Silence.
Tahki swallowed. Dyraien had said the castle toyed with your mind. It was probably just the wind banging against his door. Someone must have left a window open.
He tiptoed back to his bed, grabbed his mother’s pencil, and held it like a knife. He put his hand on the doorknob and counted to three, then yanked it open. The hallway was empty. Silence lingered, as if he stood in the wake of a storm, so quiet his ears rang. He stepped outside and walked to the railing where he could see the entryway. He searched the ground until he caught movement on the staircase.
Someone stood on the steps. A dark shape against a dark wall.
Sweat broke out across his neck. His first impulse was to flee to his room and barricade the door, but he didn’t move. What if Sornjia had decided to come to the castle? If anyone saw him, if anyone spoke to him, he was dead.
Tahki moved quickly to the stairs. By the time he reached the top, the figure had vanished. He descended, one careful step at a time. Before he reached the bottom, he noticed something odd about the floor.
It moved.
He stopped on the last step. The floor looked black as the obsidian walls, only it shimmered and rippled, and he could see his reflection.
The entire first floor was filled with dark water.
Tahki took a step backward. He didn’t understand what he was looking at. Had the river flooded? Why was the water so dark when it couldn’t be more than two feet deep?
He retreated up the stairs to alert Dyraien. As he climbed, a sudden furious roar sounded above his head. The cry stung his ears and left his head throbbing.
Tahki looked up.
A river rushed toward him, uncontrolled, through the hallway. Water thrashed over the banister and rolled down the staircase.
Panic seized him. “What?” he breathed aloud. “What?” This was a dream. It had to be. It felt too horrible to be life. He tried to wake up, but he couldn’t.
Tahki stumbled backward and made a break for the bottom floor, every muscle rigid with fear. He splashed through the knee-high water in the entryway. He could hear the river crashing toward him as it devoured pillars and forced open doors on all sides, flooding rooms. Before he reached the front doors, the water surged left, forcing him to the right. He opened the first door he came to and discovered another stairway leading down to a lower level of the castle. Dyraien hadn’t shown him this place, but it looked to be his only escape.
He pushed through and slammed the door behind him. His feet caught on the stairway and he tripped, tumbling a moment before his body smacked into a dirt floor.
Tahki panted into the ground and didn’t move for a moment. The chaos left his body trembling, and the fall had twisted his right arm. He sat up. His pulse beat hard. Breath caught in his throat, and he huddled against the stairway and listened.
No sound came from the floor above.
His stomach convulsed
, and he dry hacked. Clear dribble fell from his chin. He wiped it away and rose to his feet. Though his legs should have been soaked, they felt dry. His white cotton shirt was also dry. There was no sign of water anywhere, except sweat under his arms. He couldn’t even begin to make sense of his current state. Instead, he turned his attention to the room.
It smelled musty. Light trickled in from around the corner. He stepped back, trying to get a sense of the area, when his back hit something hard.
Two black gates towered over him. They stood at least fifteen feet tall, which meant the castle was much larger than he originally thought. He must be in the basement, and those doors probably led outside. Something about the gates felt wrong, out of place. He remembered Sornjia had once seen a dead sandbull in the road, and he’d said, “It was like trying to look at something with needles in your eyes.” Looking at the gate didn’t just feel uncomfortable. It felt painful. The back of his eyes throbbed, and warmth trickle down his lip. He wiped his nose. Blood.
Tahki rubbed his face with his shirt and took a deep breath.
He didn’t know what this place was or why Dyraien had neglected to show him. What concerned him more were his dry clothing and the blood. The only explanation he could think of was that he’d dream walked, and the fall had woken him. He didn’t have a history of nightwalking, and the idea his body and mind had separated for a moment frightened him.
Tahki grabbed his head. Maybe he’d eaten something toxic, or the anxiety of seeing Sornjia had pushed him over the edge. He felt lucid now. If he walked back upstairs, he was sure the water would be gone.
Still, he hesitated and took a shaky breath. He focused on the gate. Something in the back of his mind whispered pull, pull, pull. Looking at the gates was like looking at a lever someone told you not to touch, so you naturally wanted to touch it.
Tahki reached out a hand and rested it on one of the circular iron handles. There were two, each as thick as his arm and big as his torso. He pulled, but it was locked. It was odd to lock yourself inside the castle, unless the gate didn’t lead outside. He couldn’t remember seeing the gates from the exterior and let the handle fall with a loud clunk.