“Long ago, my grandmother discovered something—that if she traveled to the other side, and her sister remained here, they never aged so long as they were close together. At this point, they were princesses like my sister and me—and like my sister and me, tradition dictated that only the stronger of the two of them could become queen, while the other had to be eliminated or else risk political instability. Instead, they forged a plan.”
Aetia cleared her throat at this point and stepped forwards, continuing where Lola had left off.
“Back then, the tribe was still young, and the trees were shorter, and the outside world had yet to reach us. It’s so long that my memory has grown shadows, but I still remember that day perfectly. When Tenebia and I were to fight, she feigned her death—the spear passed through her heart, an intangible heart, and after the battle, she faded to the other side. And ever since that day, we trade off—I will spend a day here, then she will take my place, and so forth. There are those who know our secret, of course—in a village where many are Transients, it’s impossible to keep such things hidden. But these are few, and loyal. Unlike other rulers, this has given us many advantages—by changing our sleep schedules, we can be present day and night. If one of us is injured or sick, the other can step in. And should we ever need to have ears in other places, it’s as simple as spending the day apart.”
Aetia stopped, and at this point, tears had reached her eyes, and she struggled to speak.
“We were prepared to pass on the throne to Lola and Rila. But we did not know that it would come so soon. Tenebia, who you have known several times without realizing it was me, was the one who gave up her life. And now, the years have finally caught up to me, and I age once more. As she died, I too am ready, though I now have no choice. And by sending Lola to view the outside world, while keeping Rila here to gain the approval of the people and methods of war, we’ve prepared them as best as possible to rule the next thousand years.”
Chapter 112
“To think, most of them have no idea,” murmured Arial next to me as we watched the procession begin. We stood together at the roots, covered in the same black robes that the Worldwalkers now wore, making us appear as if we were a sea of Deathguards. And as the casket moved through the ranks, perhaps we were.
The pallbearers strained under the load, which few knew was solid wood through the core, carved to appear to be openable from the outside. Intricate patterns of vines stretched down its length, with thick leaves forming the handles, and an orange-colored gem inlaid into the coffin to represent Lola’s paint. The wood itself was from a branch of the great tree that had fallen in a storm, though they had not expected to use it so soon.
Aetia dabbed real tears from her eyes as they lowered the coffin deep within the roots. There, long decayed, was a similar one for her sister. Only now did it bear any relevance.
“There’s something I want you to know,” Arial intoned as they slowly lowered the casket down, Aetia speaking of the memories of her granddaughter. I nodded, and Arial continued, her fingers wrapping tight around my own as she spoke, as if holding on to them for support.
“When we first came here, I was angry, though it wasn’t at you. I know I acted like it, but the Amazon—well, the Amazon is something of a sore spot in my memory. You do know why, don’t you? From my father?”
I blinked as the memory came crashing back, and my face turned red. I had completely forgotten about how Arial had obtained her power—back when we first met, her father revealed that she was to be born in a hospital in the Amazon rainforest. And that instead, she had been born on the plane ride there, giving her the relatively common power of Flight compared to the rarer and more valuable ones he sought.
“Oh, Arial, I didn’t realize,” I said, swallowing and digging my nails into my side. “I, I had no idea, I didn’t put it together. I should have known. I can’t believe I let it slip.”
“It’s okay, SC. I don’t really like to talk about it,” she said, the words thick with emotion. “But my father, he used to drop hints all the time as I grew up. About how a Transient would be far better at hide and seek than me. That even a Vibrant was more rare than a Flyer. Or that Blenders were at least useful for something. It happened every day, SC—and coming here, I was reminded of that. Of what I wasn’t. Or what he wanted me to be.”
“Arial, we wouldn’t have made you come. We could have—”
“Stop that,” she snapped as a head turned to face us, and she lowered her voice again. “You needed me here, and we both know it. No, it’s better that I came. You see, I thought when I got here, everyone would look down on me, would think their powers were superior—but it’s the opposite. Flight’s rare here; they value it over the powers my father wanted me to have. Just a few days ago, I would be ready to trade—I wanted to convince Ennia to change me the moment I knew it was a possibility. But now, I’m not so sure—I like what I have, and to Hell what my father says about it.”
I squeezed her hand, and said with a smile.
“I do too, Arial—and no matter what your father says, I don’t want you to change.”
At that moment, Aetia’s speech finished, and a line of others proceed up the aisle. Several spoke during the ceremony, their swishing language bearing melancholic tones, and my mind was brought to the falling of leaves just before winter. After fresh dirt covered the hole form the casket, several Vibrants rushed forwards, holding their hands over the mound as flowers leapt from the soil, all matching Lola’s color, and blossomed over her would-be grave.
“From death, we grow new life,” concluded Aetia after the last person spoke, then she reached upward to a clasp at her neck, which held the dark cloak in place. In unison, we did the same, the entire crowd pulling at the fastener. As one the cloaks dropped, the wave of blackness tumbling to the ground, replaced the light green cloaks of the Worldwalkers.
“And now,” said Aetia with a flourish and a wipe away of a final tear. “Our new queen.”
Chapter 113
Rila wore a robe of white as she walked up the aisle, and as she passed, the Worldwalkers dropped to a knee, their heads bowed. No adornments covered her, no ornamentation, no paint—but like her grandmother, she no longer required such things. Her presence alone sufficed.
“In over a thousand years,” her grandmother said as she stood before her, “there has been no other leader of the Worldwalkers. Know that today, you witness what many generations before you have worked towards but could never experience. Know that you see us entering into a new age, as a stronger people. Know that Rila will far surpass my own leadership and has my full blessing, as a servant to you.”
From the flowers of Lola’s grave, a yellow-painted girl rushed over, weaving the plants into a small circlet. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pressed down on the stems—and like those in the library, they began to glow, golden light racing around in faster and faster loops until is became a shimmering halo. Taking it in both hands, Aetia placed it on Rila’s head, the light eradicating all shadows about her and giving her face a holy glow.
And just for an instant, so fast I wasn’t sure if I might have mistaken it, a mirror image of her shimmered next to her, one with a halo of darkness. And I knew now, on the other side, the Deathguards were performing the same ceremony for Lola.
Before her, the crowd bowed then raised their voices in a mighty cheer, the forest itself joining in the roar as monkeys howled and birds screeched, and in the distance, I heard something roar with the ferocity of a large cat. Then even Aetia bowed before her, and Rila inclined her head—first to her grandmother, then to the crowd at large. Holding out her hand, a staff slithered from the ground under the command of a nearby Vibrant, and she tapped it three times on the roots, calling for silence.
“I am honored at this privilege,” she began, speaking her first words with confidence. “And I will serve you well, through justice and strength. Now I bring my first matter of business to the front—there were many who fought for the W
orldwalkers who we will not be seeing again. Many who, like my sister, gave the ultimate sacrifice. We commemorate them and know that they will never be forgotten.”
She hung her head for a moment, then raised it once more, her voice doubling in volume.
“But there are others that are leaving us as well—those who traveled far to warn us, who were rejected by Waela the traitor, yet still fought for our cause. And among them, one who we jailed—yet who ultimately stood between us and evil. Now he receives the Paint, the first of my reign. Darian, if you’ll step forwards.”
From our right, Darian entered the aisle, his chin high, his walk far more steady after a day of recovery. Along his arms, the scorch marks stood out like warbands, and as Rila raised her hand high to mark his face, they accented the blue paint. Two strokes she left upon him, starting narrow at his cheekbones and flaring out towards his temples and into his hair in a parting path.
“You, Darian, are now a warrior among us. And as reparation for the wrongs cast upon you, we offer you one gift. You may ask it freely.”
Darian swallowed then paused, drawing a deep breath before answering.
“When I was captured, I did not have the strength to enter the other side.” The crowd gasped, but he held up his hands to silence them before continuing. “At least, not at first. On my own, of my own will, it was impossible—but I did have the strength to see through. And when I saw my own friends were approached by evil, when I saw Lola being threatened, I broke through. Your healers have advised me that this was an overextension of my power, that I didn’t just break the wall between the worlds, but something within myself as well. Something that could heal back stronger, or become entirely different.”
He cleared his throat, then continued, staring directly into her eyes.
“Rila, I need time to heal, and a place to heal. All my life, I have searched for a home, somewhere to rest my head—and now, I implore you, to allow me to stay here until I have recovered. That the broken piece grow back belonging. That I not just walk among you, but that I may be one of you. One of the Worldwalkers.”
Arial let out a sharp gasp as silence pervaded the clearing, then Rila nodded, her cane rapping on the ground once more in acceptance. On my left, Lucio rubbed his eye when he thought I wasn’t looking, then hid his emotion the best way he knew how.
“Moving in already?” he cracked, just loud enough for our group to hear him, trying to keep his voice steady. “Damn, I guess those two are serious!”
Chapter 114
“You’re sure about this?” I asked, my back to the wall separating us from the jungle, our bags packed and two Refreshers waiting. Already, the Vibrants had opened up the tunnel, and its black maw sat waiting with Zeke already inside it.
Across from me, Darian stood alone with Lola, preparing to give their farewells. Though she wore no paint, her clothing was exceptionally loose to conceal the differences in her figure to her sister, at least until her physical regimens on the other side gave her the same muscular prowess. She still kept her distance from the other members of the tribe and wore a swooping bonnet made of long woven leaves that cast her face into shadow.
“I’m sure,” said Darian, reaching over to clasp my hand in his, shaking it firmly. As we made contact, I could still feel a slight buzz underneath his skin, a misalignment or dissonance. But he reassured me with a smile, continuing to speak as he released his grip.
“I don’t mean offense by it, SC—but surely you know how I’ve been searching for a family. A tiny piece of the Amazon found me when I was born, and it gave me my power as a Mimic—I think it’s time for me to return. Besides, someone is going to have to keep an eye on the Worldwalkers in case they get in trouble again.”
He nudged Lola, and she rebuffed him, hiding a smile.
“Is that how you treat a queen?” she asked, elbowing him back. “You forget it’s we who are taking you on.”
“Right, but you need street smarts. Besides your time outside, and your collection of books, there is plenty you still don’t know about the outside world. I can help with that. And you can’t leave like I can—a queen should stay with her people, but I can be an envoy.”
“Fine,” she answered, throwing up her hands. “You win this round. Though with my sister and my arrangement, short vacations should be possible.”
“And on that subject,” I interjected, “we’ll keep the portal maintained for both of you, in case you ever need to come back. Once a month, on the first of the month, I’ll open it up should you ever need or want to return. And if it’s not open—well, I think it’s safe to assume that we have our hands full with a new problem that needs solving.”
“Should that new problem require our help,” said Lola, and now her voice bore the authority of a queen, “never hesitate to call. I must look after my people first, but if we can extend a hand, we will. We are in your debt.”
“Know if I do come calling, it’s dire,” I answered then nodded, acknowledging her. Behind me, Lucio stepped forwards, embracing Darian in a tight hug, the bigger boy taken slightly by surprise.
“You may have always searched for a family, but you’ve always been my brother,” Lucio said into his shoulder. “And I’ll always remind you how family can be annoying. This memory I’m leaving you—it’s the foulest thing I’ve ever smelt, and I just had to share it.”
Darian broke away instantly, his face contorted as he coughed and Lola laughed.
“Why do you always have to be like this?” Darian gagged. “And what was that?”
“Mastodon farts,” Lucio announced proudly. “So you’ll have plenty more of that around here with Lola’s herd. And why? Because now it’s guaranteed you’ll never forget me.”
“I never would have anyways,” Darian answered, and they embraced again. For Lola, Lucio extended a hand, and shook hers.
“And for you—well, I don’t have an award for best actress, but if I did, you would win! We’ll miss having someone smart around. For us intellectuals, it’s so difficult being among the lesser minded.”
Behind him, Arial started to inject, and he cut her off.
“It’s a joke! Fine, both of you are smart, but she’s got you on books, Arial. Better start reading up now to reach peak nerd.”
Slugger stepped forwards next, handing something to Darian that he held in his palm.
“I found this for you,” he said. “And it’s nothing special, simply a rock from the riverbed. See how it’s been cracked—it’s difficult to tell now, but over time, the water smoothed out even its roughest edges. If what the healers say is true, you’ve been cracked—take the time to smooth it out.”
“Of course I will, Slugger. And you too—I saw you on the battlefield; you had some real anger in some of those swings.”
“Aye, we all have that in us, just depends where you find it. Often that’s what causes the cracks, eh?” Slugger replied, then he winked. “But anyways, we’ll miss your calmness. You helped keep us stable and we’ll need to rebalance. You will be missed. And as for you, Lola, I thought I’d leave you with a suggestion. Find your tribe some Momentives, and you won’t just have a mastodon defense—you’ll have one that can leap a hundred yards.”
Lola laughed then answered, “I’ll be sure to pass that information on to our warriors, and we’ll be monitoring for one. Though I don’t anticipate we’ll be accepting in new foreigners soon.”
“Aye, perhaps it is for the better. Wouldn’t want to throw things off balance.”
Slugger stepped backwards, and Arial came forwards last, at first avoiding Lola’s eyes.
“Darian, without you, we would never have escaped the Academy,” she said. “ I can’t thank you enough that we were not in the army attacking today. I’ll always remember that.”
Then she drew a breath and brought herself to look at Lola.
“And Lola, your village, your grandmother, have opened my eyes. As a Flyer, it’s easy to think I can see everything—but that’s when we are most bl
ind. But what I really missed during our time together was true friendship—and I ask now, as we part, that we might enter it.”
The words came hard off Arial’s tongue and sounded brittle—and I knew the difficulty that such humiliation took from her, like trying to bend an oak tree over in a bow. Lola returned the smile, and the two embraced as she spoke.
“Of course, Arial—and friends we always will be. As long as I may live.”
Chapter 115
The return to civilization was far quicker than our original journey.
With the help of the two Refreshers, we ran through the night, stopping once an hour to rehydrate and eat a fatty substance they produced that tasted like scoops of butter. Normally, I would grimace—but now, my body craved the calories.
Ennia joined us at the start with her Blenders, and they turned off halfway, riding their tigers back into the jungle.
“I said I’d kill you if anything happened to my creations,” she said to me. “But now I’ve seen what they stopped. And the one who hurt them paid the price. Like the Worldwalkers, there is much you don’t know of us. We keep our secrets well. But know this—should those that harmed Lilac ever stand in your way again, you know where to find us. Maybe you could even convince us to help.”
“And Lilac will remember me too, won’t you?” coaxed Lucio, petting the tiger as she purred. “Had me worried there for a second, kitty. At least we had the fishing memories together!”
“Fishing?” asked Ennia. “She’s a vegetarian.”
“Haha, joking!” said Lucio, then took off before she could say another word, the Refresher power easily letting him put distance between them.
The rest of the party left us at our boat, and Zeke untied from the mooring. We travelled downstream far faster than up, the banks sliding by without hesitation, and Zeke seemed far more relaxed. The danger, it seemed, had passed—though he did tense up as we passed the remains of the Litious, his gaze following them long after we traveled downriver.
Negative Film (Star Child: Places of Power Book 2) Page 36