by W. J. May
Rhen stayed where he was, watching clouds float by overhead, perfectly content to let his feet dangle in the breeze.
"Rhen?"
"Hmm?"
He shifted his gaze to Jin, whose head rested on his knee, pensively studying the cliff face to the side of the ship.
"Do you think..." He paused. "Do you think the flood was real?"
Rhen shrugged. "I don't know, Jin, it's just a legend."
"Do you think..." He paused again. "Is it possible that a human caused it? Someone like you or me?"
Rhen sat up, listening.
"What if before, people could use these gifts, could actually make things happen?"
"How so?"
"What if before, instead of just pulling the fire under your skin, you could create it? What if someone could do the same thing with water?"
"That's not natural," Rhen said the first words that came to mind. But part of him was intrigued—the part of him that as a boy had tried to do that very thing.
"I think it would be the most natural thing in the world," Jin said, soft and fragile.
"Well, if you feel a sudden urge to drown the kingdom, let me know, okay?" He grinned.
Jin rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips.
"We're in this together, you and me," Rhen said, nudging the boy with his knee. "We'll defeat the Ourthuri. Dissipate your shadow. And with whatever time is left over, we'll figure out what the spirits mean to do with us. Agreed?"
He offered his hand.
Jin looked at it, and then slowly stretched his own forward.
A pact.
Clouds gathered in the boy's eyes, but Rhen chose to ignore them. Instead standing, stretching his arms high overhead, and letting a yawn open his mouth.
"I think I need some food," he said sleepily, before jumping easily down onto the ropes, starting his descent.
The day was too beautiful for doubts.
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15
Jinji
White Stone Sea
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Jinji was leaving.
She would wait until Rhen was reunited with his family, until he was distracted, but as soon as that happened, she was gone.
She had to be.
It had all started with a dream—so small, so insignificant, yet everything.
Jinji sat in the golden palace. Rhen's head rested on her lap. A gold dress flowed over her limbs, her eyes were hooded with the veil, and she ran her fingers lovingly over his cheeks.
"Rhen," she whispered, dipping her lips down so they skimmed the soft skin below his ear. "Wake up."
Hair fell over her shoulder, hair that was black and long and luscious—hair that was not cut in mourning, that showed no respect for her heritage, for her family.
A hand gently cupped her cheek. It was coarse and callused, yet comforting.
"Jinji," a deep voice said. She pulled back, meeting sparkling green eyes—the color of the forest just before twilight.
Rhen.
And he looked at her like she was his world.
Slowly, she pulled the metal mask off her head, but his expression bore no surprise. He knew who she was. He had known the entire time.
His fingers slipped behind her neck, running through her heavy locks, massaging the skin around her shoulders before pulling her down.
Down.
Closer.
Until their breath mingled, hot and electric.
And then his lips were on her skin, setting it ablaze. His fingers like lava as they traced a path down her back, over thin fabrics, to her hip, and still lower.
Jinji gasped.
She had never been touched like this before. Never been held like this.
Her skin prickled, hot to the touch. Her fingers stretched into his hair, gripping the short strands, forcing his face closer.
But then they both stopped moving, halted in time.
Suddenly, his lips turned cold. His hands fell away.
Jinji sat up. But it was not Rhen below her anymore.
It was Maniuk—face frozen in betrayal.
She blinked.
The face changed to that of her father—eyes downcast with disappointment.
Tears blurred her vision, so she rubbed them away.
Now her mother—mouth open in disgust.
"No!" She yelled and stood, backing away.
The body shifted, flipped over—rotting fingers gripped the ground, pulling the carcass closer. The figure stood.
And it was Janu.
"Have you forgotten?" He asked. The skin around his lips flaked away. "Have you forgotten what you are?"
His hands rose up and gripped her cheeks. His skin melted off, dripping to her feet until finally it was her own face that remained.
"Remember," she said, "remember."
And then she had awoken, panting in the darkness, her heart racing as fast as it had ever felt. But it wasn't the shadow—it was her own guilt haunting her.
The dream played on repeat in her sleep, sometimes changing location, but always the same. Rhen or her family. Rhen or her vengeance.
She could not have both.
Traveling with Rhen had brought her no closer to answers. It had been a distraction—perhaps a needed one, a way to free herself from the loss, to open herself up to the outside world, now far less scary than it had been only weeks before. But there was no forgetting her people or her mission.
The spirits were guiding her, but toward what? It was time to take fate into her own hands. And if Rhen could not help her defeat the shadow, she needed to leave him behind and find someone who could.
No matter how much her heart tightened at that thought.
"Are you practicing? Like that?"
Jinji turned. She had forgotten about the sword resting in her lap, the one Rhen was trying his best to teach her how to use. Her mind had been elsewhere, but now she was aware.
The world filtered back into focus.
"No." She shrugged, removing it and letting it drop onto the ground beside her. She was at the bow of the ship, sitting with legs crossed as she gazed out at the waters before her.
They had left the deep canals, the cliffs, and the river behind long ago. Now they were in the White Stone Sea as Rhen had called it, affection evident in his voice. This was his territory, his home. And it was as beautiful as anything she had ever laid eyes on.
The sea was turquoise—brighter and more vibrant than any waters she had ever seen before. Rhen said it was the sand.
There was a mountain range in the middle of the sea, huge peaks that stretched endlessly into the clouds. The locals called them the Gates—the entrance to the spirit world. No humans had ever been able to climb them and live to tell the tale, though Rhen assured her that some had tried. But the stones, he said, were pure white. The mountains looked like snow and ice from afar, but they were rock. A smooth, polished stone unlike anywhere else in their world.
The sand was made from that rock—the waters beat against the mountains, knocking pieces off and breaking them down into rubble. The pure ivory that decorated the sea floor turned the water the most unbelievable hue, a liquid gemstone.
"We should be arriving in Rayfort today, a few hours at the most," Rhen said from above. He stood next to her, resting his forearms on the wooden rail, eyes focused on the search for his home. "I recognize the shoreline."
Jinji stayed seated, keeping her distance. "What will happen when we get there?"
"I imagine my family will be both relieved and annoyed at my appearance. The Naming should be happening soon, they've likely been postponing it until I return. The ceremony cannot be completed without the entire royal house present. My brother and I must hand over our right to the throne to the new Son of Whyl, removing our claim to keep the future succession untainted."
"And what will happen to me?"
"During the Naming? Nothing. Only the noble—well, let's just say it is a closed ceremony. But afterward, I
will show you my home. We can train you to be a knight, you can grow up to serve your kingdom and your king." Rhen shrugged, as though that was the normal—the only—path for her to take.
Was that why he had wanted to teach her swordplay? Why he had demanded?
Jinji pulled her legs into her chest.
She had been right. Rayfort was the end. After that, she and Rhen would have to part ways, to follow different fates.
Part of her had hoped that things would change after she had forced him to dance with the fire. And it had. They had drifted closer—too close.
Despite being just Jin to Rhen, she felt like he knew her better than anyone else ever had—anyone except Janu. She understood Rhen. He trusted her, likely against his best instincts. And she had faith in him.
But it was that very connection, deep and only strengthening by the day, that made Jinji uneasy. No one could ever take the place of her people in her heart. She wouldn’t allow it, not when their legacy depended on her—she owed them at least that.
"Do you think we will find any answers in your home? Any word of the shadow I mentioned?"
It was a stretch, a faint hope, but she had to ask the question.
He tore his eyes away from the land laid out before them, looking down at her in sympathy.
"I don't know, Jin. I don't even know what to look for."
Her heart sunk, dropping an inch deeper into her chest.
"In Roninhythe," her mouth stumbled over the long word, still not comfortable on her tongue, "I heard sailors talking. They said two of their own had died, one with a slit throat just like...like Maniuk," she forced the name out, taking a deep breath. "And two children were found dead by the wall. The lord said they fell, but one of them had a slit throat too. It can't be coincidence, it—"
"I heard the same, Jin," Rhen said, reaching down to pat her shoulder, "my friend, son of the Lord of Roninhythe, he told me something similar. But what would the shadow want with all of those people? The Arpapajo, children, soldiers, sailors? They have nothing in common. It is more the act of a thief than a ghost."
"I—"
"And even if it is this shadow, what do you mean to do, Jin? How can you catch something that does not exist, that jumps from body to body, that ensnares the mind? How could you even fight it?"
"I don't know," she said softly, chin sinking down into her chest.
Rhen knelt.
"I know it hurts, but your family is gone, Jin. It would be better for you to move on and live your life."
And there it was. The very thing she had been dreading Rhen would say, would believe. He wanted her to forget.
Janu's face flashed before Jinji's eyes.
Had she forgotten?
Never.
Jinji turned to Rhen, eyes narrowing as her heart started to pound. "Move on?" Her nostrils flared. Her lips quivered. "Move on? As if you have any right to tell someone else to move on, Prince Whylrhen."
"Jin, I didn’t mean—"
"Didn't mean what?" She stood, meeting him as close to face to face as her small size would allow. "That they are dead? That they are never coming back? And that means I should just let them go?"
"No, but—"
"Do they not deserve to be avenged? To be cared for, even in death? Someone must remember, and I am the only one left who can."
She stopped, panting, not used to talking so aggressively. Rhen looked on shocked, a little hurt.
"Jin, why are you so angry?"
She took a deep breath, trying to control the swell in her chest, but it was no use. The floodgate had opened. And Rhen was the only person around to take the hit.
"Ka'shasten. Do you know what that means?"
Rhen scrunched his forehead, dumbfounded.
"It means family, loved ones, and so much more than that. It is unexplainable, it is part of my soul, just like my people were—are."
"Kayashastian," he tried, mumbling the word.
"Ka'shasten," she repeated, her heart melting and breaking at the same time. He had tried, tried to understand her, to help her. But the failure was all the more bittersweet because of it, all the more noticeable. Differentiating. "Do you know what it feels like to be the only person in the world who understands what that means? I cannot just let it go, let them go. We are one people, something a newworlder would never understand."
"So now I'm a newworlder?"
"You always were," she said, a hard edge in her voice. "It is not my fault that you cannot see it."
"Maybe you're the one who can't see." He pointed at her, defensive. "A sword? Leather pants? A fine silk jacket? You don't look like an oldworlder to me Jin, not anymore."
She looked down at herself, the breeches sticking to her legs, the shirt billowing over her chest. Where were the animal hides? The skins bleached soft in the sun?
A lump caught in her throat. Her eyes began to sting.
Before she knew it, she was running, stomping over wooden boards. Rhen called her name, but it was lost on the wind. She kept fleeing, not wanting to face his words, or hers.
Only when the cabin was locked behind her did the tears start to fall. She bit them back, crawling onto the bed, closing her eyes tightly and imagining a different time, a different life.
She was a little girl. It was the night before Sanjiju—their most beloved ceremony. The next morning the tribe would wake at sunrise to celebrate the spirits in prayer and dance. For the first time, she and Janu would partake in the fast. Already her stomach was rumbling. But there was an excitement in the air that only came once a year, when the winter was shed and a new spring was arriving, a time for renewal.
Jinji could remember lying in that bed as though it were only yesterday, counting the minutes as they went by. But the next morning was not her favorite part of the memory, it was seconds later.
Jinji, she could remember Janu whispering. He tapped her arm and she flipped to face him on their shared pallet.
From the other side of the small cabin, their father shushed them both, reprimanding their disrespect. It was time to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. They would need energy. And everything else a parent said to a disobedient child.
Jinji covered her mouth, giggling. Janu did not try to cover his laugh. She pinched his arm, but it only made him louder.
Be quiet, she remembered whispering. Father will move you to the longhouse and then we won't be able to play.
He sighed heavily, but quieted himself and moved closer. The starlight filtered in through the smoke hole at the top of their home, just enough to see the glisten in each other's eyes.
Then Jinji reached out, grabbing Janu's hand and flipping it face up. Using her fingers, she tapped a beat onto his palm.
One. Two. Three. Very fast with her pointer. Then one slow with her pinky. Then two fast with her thumb. Then three slow, each a different finger.
Janu watched, straining to see her fingers in the dark. When she was done, he flipped her palm, trying to copy. But at the end, he only tapped slowly twice. She shook her head, grinning, and made a new beat.
They played for an hour before falling fast asleep mid-tap, fingers holding onto each other in the dark—almost as though the spirits knew that it would be their last Sanjiju together, that they would need that extra time. By the next year, Jinji would be dancing for him, and not with him, during the ceremony.
Jinji sighed, rolling over as her head returned to the present day, to the ship—to her loneliness. Her heart had slowed, as had her tears. But she was still curled in a little ball, clutching her knees.
Someone was outside the door. She heard the unmistakable creak of footsteps, pacing back and forth. The doorknob jiggled. A curse filtered through the wood. And then...
"Jin? Did you lock the door?"
She didn't respond. She just closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean, of course you shouldn't forget your family and your people. I would never suggest that. And I shouldn't have said that
about you being a newworlder—because believe me when I say you most definitely are not."
A thud hit the door, likely his back as he shifted his weight.
Jinji remained silent. She owed him an apology as well—she knew it. There was no reason for her to yell at him, no reason at all, except that she was starting to say goodbye. And it would be easier to say goodbye to someone she hated. Not a friend. Especially not the only one she had left in this world.
"I'll help you find this shadow, I will. As soon as the Naming is complete and I've warned my father on the Ourthuri treachery, I'll devote all of my time to the search. And we'll figure out how to destroy it together."
He paused, waiting.
Jinji pictured him, leaning against the door, fists firm over his head, his expression pleading.
"Why?" She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it happened. And words were like that. Once said, you could never take them back—no matter how much you wished you could.
"Because," he said, thinking, "you saw the part of me that I keep hidden from the rest of the world, and it didn't scare you. We're brothers, Jin. Somehow, someway, a Son of Whyl and an Arpapajo became brothers."
She took a deep breath, ignoring the sudden heat warming her chest, and sat up. At least he doesn't know I'm a girl, she thought, smiling to herself before standing.
Midway up, she frowned, quickly inversing her features.
This changed nothing. She was still leaving. All it did was ensure that Rhen would hate her all the more once she left.
"Now will you come open the door? I feel like an idiot talking to myself."
Jinji rolled her eyes.
As she neared the door, her heart began to flutter, sending chills down her arms. She twisted the lock. Her heart skipped a beat, waiting, watching the entrance.
It opened.
Rhen took up the entire frame, and he was looking at her expectantly.
Jinji stifled the urge to run into his arms, to throw her hands around his neck, to seek the comfort she so earnestly desired. Instead, she planted her feet, silently waiting like she always did.
"Well?" He asked. His left cheek twitched, his lip rose and a crooked lazy smile gathered on his face.
Jinji shrugged in response, not trusting her body to listen to her.