The Crescent Stone

by Matt Mikalatos

  Jason cleared his throat. Things were getting a little too emotional. “Does it have indoor plumbing, though?” Hanali glared at him. “What? It’s a legitimate question.” They walked back toward the door that had brought them into the Sunlit Lands. A rounded carriage, pure white and carved with intricate patterns, arrived beside them. A human teen wearing a white wig drove the coach, and white horses pulled it, four of them, with not a spot of another color, not a single hair out of place.

  The coachman opened the door and, with a flourish, invited them to climb aboard. “But the mud,” Madeline said, looking at the perfect white silk on the pillowed interior, then to her own disgusting hospital scrubs.

  “The smell is unfortunate,” Hanali admitted, “but the mud itself is easily cleaned. Climb aboard and be at ease. I would usually have clothes and a bath waiting for you here, but we have been on an accelerated schedule. I didn’t expect to invite you so soon, but with your delicate health . . . In any case, my apologies for not being properly prepared to receive you.” Jason shrugged. The worst of the mud had washed away when they fell into the water under the pipe, and their clothes were dry after the long walk through the forest.

  “It’s okay,” Madeline said. She stepped in first, facing forward, and Hanali sat beside her. Jason flopped onto the opposite side.

  “Don’t you want to watch the city?” Madeline asked. She stuck her head out the window. “The trees! It’s like the sunshine is coming out through their leaves. It’s so beautiful!” She took a deep, deep breath.

  A sudden fatigue washed over Jason. Was it only this morning he had carried her into the hospital? He looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. She could have died. She could have died right there on the floor of their chemistry room, and now here she was, her face kissed by the golden sun of another world. He shivered. If he hadn’t carried her to the car, if he hadn’t spoken up, if he hadn’t driven like a maniac bank robber, she would be—well, he knew how a story like that ended. He knew it all too well. A heavy cold seeped into his limbs, and he closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there,” he said.

  “Welcome to the Sunlit Lands,” Hanali said, but Jason pretended not to hear.

  8

  ROOMMATES

  Your arrival—how like the sunrise!

  When the cool eastern light shimmers

  upon the morning waves.

  FROM “THE PARTING,” A TRADITIONAL ZHANIN SONG

  Hanali had ordered Madeline to stay in the coach, but his argument with the woman in the courtyard seemed to be about her. They had made easy time to the beautiful city of Far Seeing (properly called the Court of Far Seeing, according to Hanali). They traveled more than an hour, first down from the mountain and then through wide farmland. Farmers walked through the fields behind strange purplish beasts of burden, shaggy things with four long, curved horns. Their coach passed long citrus groves and orderly rows of some sort of berry—purple, plump, and round.

  Madeline’s heart felt like a helium balloon on an enormous tether. She floated above everything, taking it in, loving it all. She didn’t know if it was the increase in oxygen or the fantastical world that matched every book she had ever read, but she felt almost giddy, like a kid waiting in line for a favorite roller coaster. She leaned out the window, taking deep breaths of the air and trying not to giggle uncontrollably at every wonderful thing.

  At last they had come to the city walls. Everything about the place was amazing, even the traffic. Not ten minutes ago a woman in a bright-red dress and an enormous floppy hat had ridden by on a gigantic ostrich. Elephants decorated in long silks carried people in curtained rooms upon their backs. They had passed a fountain near the main gate where the falling water landed in crystal bowls that played different tones as the water struck them. The fountain sang a tune Hanali called “The Triumph of Ele and Nala.” It was a beautiful, soaring thing, but he wouldn’t allow the coach to stop for her to listen. She had reached out her hand, though, and when a bit of the water sprayed her fingers she had whooped so loud it woke Jason momentarily.

  She knew she should miss Darius. She should be worried about her parents. She should be afraid of what was to come, of fighting the Scim and learning to live in a new world. But she didn’t feel any of those things. She felt happy. All her life she had wanted something like this: horses and fantastical beasts and elves and mermaids and evil monsters to battle . . . and here she was, and how could she be anything but deliriously, uncontrollably happy?

  In time they had come to a smaller wall surrounding a large country estate. It was on the outskirts of the city, just inside the wall. A human woman had come out to greet them, dressed as a kitchen maid, but now she was clearly giving Hanali a rough time.

  Jason still snored on the opposite side of the carriage.

  Madeline stepped lightly out of the carriage and walked toward Hanali and the woman, hiding behind a hedge which was covered in beautiful orange flowers. She couldn’t just sit there in the carriage, not when there was an entire new world to explore. A fresh scent floated in the air, as if someone had scraped the skin of a ripe tangerine. She took a deep whiff, delighted.

  “—telling you this is the girl who will bring justice for the people of the Sunlit Lands. Multiple far-seers have said so. She’s going to save us, do you understand?” Hanali’s voice had taken on an almost pleading tone. Surprising, coming from him.

  The woman crossed her arms. When she spoke, Madeline noticed her British accent. “Oh, fine then. I suppose I’ll have Scim trying to break into my place to murder her.”

  Hanali hesitated. “That may be.”

  Madeline gasped. This was not the story she had been told. This was the first she had heard about any prophecy, and definitely the first she had heard about the Scim trying to assassinate her. Her good mood deflated. Something about seeing this woman, who seemed solid and dependable and, well, ordinary . . . Something about seeing her and hearing her concerns about the Scim reminded Madeline of the seriousness of her situation. And listening to Hanali’s story, a story she did not recognize, made her realize she may have come here in the company of someone who had a completely different agenda than the one he claimed.

  “—ask the magistrates to provide protection, but I tell you this, Mrs. Raymond, that I won’t be treated with this sort of disrespect. You didn’t even wear gloves for my arrival, and now you are disparaging my deliveries.”

  The woman—Mrs. Raymond—scowled. “I’ve told you more than once, Hanali, son of Vivi, that in the Transition House we go by human rules. I can’t teach the children all at once to follow the way of the Elenil. It takes time. I’ll put gloves on when you invite me to visit at the palace.”

  “Now, Mary—”

  “Mrs. Raymond,” she said firmly.

  Hanali flinched, as if slapped. “Mrs. Raymond, then. You know I cannot invite—”

  “What’s that? You’re not planning to invite me to the palace? What a surprise. What a surprise.”

  Hanali slumped, deflated. “How do you do this to me? Here I am, five hundred years old to your fifty, and you make me feel like a child.”

  “You act like a child,” Mrs. Raymond snapped. “Most people are just too polite to point it out. Now the girl I can see was in dire straits. You were right to bring her here. But the boy . . . What are you playing at, Hanali? The boy doesn’t fit the pattern.”

  Hanali glanced back at the carriage. He didn’t seem to notice Madeline wasn’t there. Maybe he thought she had slouched down and closed her eyes.

  “The boy,” Hanali said, “is infuriating. But he belongs here, make no mistake.”

  “He’s a wild card.”

  Hanali smirked. “A wild card can be a good thing. It depends on the game you are playing.”

  “What was his tragedy that allows him to come into our lands?”

  Hanali fell silent.

  Mrs. Raymond shook her head. “I’ll not break the rules, Hanali. Not for you nor anyone else. I’ll not be
sent back to my lot on Earth, thank you very much. You know as much as I that only a child in dire need can enter the Sunlit Lands.”

  “There’s a sorrow to him, Mrs. Raymond. It runs deep. Perhaps not as deep as the girl’s, I will grant you that. I cannot see it clearly, but he is meant to be here.”

  Mrs. Raymond ran her hands over her hair, tucking away any loose strands. “A wild card is unpredictable. You of all people with your prophecies and prognosticating should be nervous about that. No matter the game, the wild card is only to your advantage if it’s in your hand. You didn’t even bind him to you, or to the Elenil for that matter.”

  Hanali inclined his head. “But he is bound to the girl, and she to the Elenil, on pain of eventual death.”

  “You know my feelings about this.”

  Hanali nodded. “I have no other choice, Mary.”

  She didn’t correct him about the name this time, she only said, “Be careful, Hanali. Be careful.”

  “Any punishment that comes upon you because of these two,” Hanali said, “I’ll take it on myself.”

  “You’ll bind yourself to that?”

  “By sun and bone, moon and flesh, I’ll bind myself.”

  “Humph. Well then. No special treatment, though. I don’t care if she’s the savior of the world and he’s her servant. We split them up, and you take the girl to the storyteller tomorrow yourself. After the orientation they go to their assigned duties, just like any other human who comes to the Court.”

  Hanali bowed low. “Of course, Mrs. Raymond.”

  “Enough with your foolishness. If someone saw you bowing to a human woman . . . the trouble! The scandal, sir.”

  Hanali grinned. “But we’re on Transition House land. Such behavior is allowed outside the Court of Far Seeing.”

  “No wonder you’re a recruiter. No doubt your churlish behavior seems charming to the humans.”

  “No doubt,” Hanali said. “But what’s this? I see one of your new charges has hidden behind an addleberry bush.”

  Madeline straightened and brushed herself off. It didn’t do much, given the amount of mud caked onto her scrubs. But she walked to Hanali regardless and stretched out a hand to Mrs. Raymond.

  Mrs. Raymond’s grip was strong. “What’s your name, young lady?”

  “Madeline Oliver.”

  The older woman’s eyes dropped and rose again, taking in Madeline’s filthy clothing. “You need a change of clothes and a bath. We’re a good three hours from dusk, and I suppose you’ve had a long day.”

  Madeline nodded. “A bath would be wonderful. But I couldn’t help but overhear that you were worried someone might try to kill me.”

  Hanali’s eyes flickered from Mrs. Raymond to Madeline. She could tell he was worried about what she might have heard. He covered it well, though, with a bright laugh and a wave of his gloved hand. “You are a terrible eavesdropper, my dear. Actually, she was worried assassins would damage her house while trying to kill you.”

  “You Elenil never know when to stop talking,” Mrs. Raymond said. She took Madeline’s hand. “We’re all at risk from the Scim here, Miss Oliver. Hanali and I have some old ongoing arguments, and one is about how much risk is acceptable.” She turned to Hanali. “You take the boy to meet his roommates, and I’ll take Miss Oliver here to meet hers.”

  Madeline didn’t get to say good-bye to Jason because Mrs. Raymond took her arm and guided her toward the house. The carriage, along with Hanali and Jason, headed for the back of the house while she and Mrs. Raymond went in the front. She noticed that neither Hanali nor Mrs. Raymond had answered her question about whether someone was trying to kill her. Not really.

  Mrs. Raymond ran a finger over the tattoo on Madeline’s wrist. “A word of advice, Miss Oliver. The other young people will ask you for details of your agreement with the Elenil. I’d suggest keeping it to yourself. Such gossip always leads to distress, one way or another.”

  She guided Madeline through a wide white door. The polished wood floors smelled of lemon, and a heavy red carpet runner ascended the stairway. Something seemed strange at first, and it took Madeline a moment to realize that there were no lights in the house. No switches, no chandeliers or fixtures, no candles, nothing but windows letting in the pure sunshine.

  Several flights of stairs later, they walked down a long hallway, coming at last to a simple wooden door. “Your roommate will help you find your feet,” Mrs. Raymond said. “She’s . . . formidable. Should there be trouble.” A sharp rap on the door brought an annoyed shout from inside.

  Mrs. Raymond pushed the door open. “In here,” she said, “you will find a change of clothing and a hot bath.”

  A young woman, close to Madeline’s age, lay sprawled on one of the two beds in the room. An unruly mane of black hair surrounded her like a halo. She wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of jeans. She was barefoot. Her eyes glittered with determined ferocity, and a shining scar ran from the outside of her left eye down to the corner of her lip.

  “Why knock if you’re only going to let yourself in?”

  “I’m with your roommate,” Mrs. Raymond said.

  “Another one?” The girl sighed and dropped her head back on her pillow.

  Madeline held her hand out and said her name. The girl stared at the ceiling.

  “The bath is through there,” Mrs. Raymond said. “There are clothes in the chest at the end of your bed. You’ll stay in your room the rest of tonight. I’ll send food up.”

  “What about Jason?”

  “You’ll see him tomorrow,” Mrs. Raymond said. “After you visit the storyteller.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Take a bath. Put on clean clothes. Sleep. Answers are for tomorrow. Good night, Miss Oliver.” She paused halfway out of the room. “And good night to you, Miss Bishara.”

  “Lock the door,” the girl said, as soon as Mrs. Raymond left the room. Madeline did as she was told. “The locks don’t do much,” the girl admitted. “Mrs. Raymond can still get in.” She sat up. “I’m Shula.”

  “Madeline.”

  Shula pushed her massive mane of hair back, then let it fall around her face again. “What deal did you make with the Elenil?”

  “Mrs. Raymond said not to tell anyone.”

  “Ha. Of course she did. Well, I can wait. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Shula jumped to her feet and opened the bathroom door. She turned the tap and steaming water fell into the tub. “There’s chocolate by my bed,” she said. “Take some if you want.”

  Some chocolate sounded wonderful. Madeline broke off a square and set it on her tongue. She sucked on it until it was gone. Shula handed her a towel and told her to come back when she was clean. A long nightgown lay on her bed when she returned, clean and relaxed, her skin glowing with heat from the bath. She put the nightgown on and crawled under her covers. Light still streamed through the window, but her eyes wouldn’t stay open.

  Shula said, “Good night, and may you wake to good things in the morning.”

  “You’re being so nice,” Madeline said.

  Shula laughed. “We stick together, you and me. But Mrs. Raymond isn’t one of us.”

  “So we’re friends.”

  “In this place, our lives depend on trusting each other. So we’re going to have to watch each other’s back whether we like each other or not.”

  Madeline yawned and tried to keep her eyes open. “I like you,” she said, her eyes falling shut. “And I’ll watch your back.” A wave of thankfulness washed over her. A bath. Chocolate. A new friend.

  “You are a funny one,” Shula said. “So quick to trust.” She patted Madeline’s hand. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the storyteller.”

  “What kind of stories does he tell?” Madeline asked, without opening her eyes.

  “Different stories at different times,” Shula said. “Don’t worry, I’ll go with you. Then we’ll fight the Scim.”

  9

  BREAK BONES

  The Scim in deep
darkness accursed.

  FROM “THE ORDERING OF THE WORLD,” AN ELENIL STORY

  “When you’re done looking at the toilet, we can do something more interesting.”

  It wasn’t a toilet, though, not exactly. It was a bowl with a lid, but it didn’t have any pipes or a water tank or a lever to flush or even a hole in the bottom of the bowl. No water, either—it was just a dry white porcelain bowl sitting in what looked more or less like a bathroom. “Hand me that apple,” Jason said, kneeling in front of the bowl.

  His two roommates exchanged a glance. They were both thin and muscular. Their names were Kekoa Kahananui and David Glenn. Kekoa’s short hair had bleached tips, and he had an angular, handsome face. David had dark hair swept back into a ponytail, and so far Jason hadn’t seen him get worked up or excited about much. His default expression was mild but friendly.

  “I was gonna eat that apple,” David said.

  “This is for science!” Jason snapped. “Now give!”

  Kekoa slapped it into his palm. “It’s not science, brah. It’s magic.”

  Jason slammed the apple into the bowl. He peered down at it. A perfectly normal apple, with no place to go. He closed the lid slowly, keeping his head level with the rim, trying to see inside the bowl as long as he could. As soon as the lid touched the rim of the bowl, he flipped it up. The apple was gone. The bowl was pristine. “Where does it go?”

  “Man, I’m hungry,” David said. “I could have had a couple bites if that’s all you were doing. You could have experimented on the core.”