by Zara Quentin
She hovered for the briefest moment, as Papa disappeared, before banking sharply and beating her wings to propel her out of danger. As she pulled away, Mt. Reve belched a cloud of ash and smoke, the rush of air buffeting her and making it difficult to fly. Jade dropped to the ground, where the Western Sea met a rocky beach around the base of Mt. Reve. In the gloom, Uncle Zorman was now just a speck as he flew back to Ingresston.
Alone now, tears cascaded down her cheeks. The force of her grief pushed her to the ground, where the smooth bumps and sharp edges of the pebbles dug into her knees.
“Papa, Papa,” she said the words aloud in the darkness. “Our Lady, how could you take him away?”
But no one answered.
Jade’s shoulders heaved, and hot tears streamed down her cheeks until she was limp and exhausted. Then she sat quietly, staring at the little white caps gently caressing the shoreline, thinking of Papa.
She remembered the first time she’d flown beyond Vertin Gorge. She’d been wide-eyed and nervous, but Papa had reassured her. He’d coaxed her gently out of the ravine and over the waters of the Western Sea. There had been a twinkle in his eye when she shrieked with laughter as the offshore winds tossed them around. He’d smiled as she’d gasped at the glorious sight of the Ingresston Temple, the statue of Our Lady Taraqa towering over it. When she’d grown exhausted, he’d taken her to a secluded sandy beach along the coastline to paddle their feet in the lapping waves. She’d been just a child, a couple of years older than the twins were now. They’ll never have that experience with Papa.
Jade mulled over life without him. She thought of Mama, sobbing on the floor. She thought of Papa’s endless hours of work growing Gariq Industries, all the Taraqans he had employed who would now rely on her to take the reins. Under the night sky, the weight of Papa’s death pressed on her.
She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Grief and fear settled over her like a blanket, the night’s chill seeping into her bones. She shivered, but worry and lethargy anchored her to the ground. She could not rouse herself to leave.
Finally, as the first signs of the rising sun crept over the horizon, Jade stretched her stiff muscles and looked up towards Mt. Reve’s crater.
“I’ll miss you, Papa,” she said.
6
Jade’s eyes ran along a fine crack in the mortar that glued the grey-blue stones together, tracing it from the top corner of the wall, above the door, to where it disappeared above the Temple Executor’s head. She shifted uncomfortably as she sat cross-legged on a flat cushion in one of the administrative offices along the Temple’s Inner Ring. Next to her, Mama stared at the floor, her eyes wet. Next to Mama, Zorman sat, straight-backed, his gaze fixed on the Executor.
The Executor was a plump woman, with short, mousy brown curls and pink scaled wings folded at her back. She’d barely looked at them since she’d arrived fifteen minutes ago, introduced herself as Rose and started summarising the laws relating to inheritance in a brisk, upbeat tone.
Jade suppressed a yawn, wriggling her toes to stop her legs from going to sleep. Since Papa’s Will wasn’t contested, Jade didn’t understand why it was taking so long. Rose gave her an annoyed glare as she rustled the papers in front of her.
“Now we’re all in a place of understanding the laws,” Rose said. A candle lamp stood on the table next to her, and other torches were lit along the walls, providing a flickering, shifting light. Out of the corner of her eye, Jade saw Zorman put a hand over where Mama’s hands were clasped in her lap. “So we may move on to Magnus Gariq’s final Will.” Rose’s wings twitched, before settling back into place. “The personal assets of Magnus Gariq will go to his wife, Esme Gariq.” Rose peered at Mama. “Yourself?” Mama nodded. “Very good. Yes, personal assets to Esme Gariq for the care of their two dependent children, Slate Gariq and Flint Gariq.”
Jade heard Mama take a sharp breath, as she closed her eyes, then nodded with a jerk. Jade could tell by the twitch of her jaw how much effort it took her to hold it together. Zorman patted her hand, but his eyes didn’t leave Rose’s face. His expression was tense and serious.
“Gariq Industries, all its lands, assets and its seat on the Council of Advisors to the Lord Protector will be transferred to his named heir. That is…” Jade held her breath, as Rose rustled her papers again. In that brief moment, Jade wondered whether Papa had named someone else. Perhaps he’d thought she was too young, too inexperienced. Perhaps…
“Ah, yes,” Rose continued. “The heir is Jade Gariq.” A lump solidified in her throat. She clutched her hands together to stop them from shaking. Rose peered at her. “This is you, I presume?”
Jade nodded.
“Very good. Well, once you have paid the necessary taxes and imposts to the Temple for the transfer of ownership, Gariq Industries is yours. All the paperwork can be done in the Transfers Office. Obviously, you won’t need to do anything, Esme, as transfer of possession of personal effects is automatic.”
Rose looked down at her notes and frowned. “I almost forgot—there was one item where the inheritance was unclear. This was found in the office, but I thought it looked like a personal item.” She held out something and looked from Mama to Jade. “It wasn’t specifically mentioned in the Will. Do either of you recognise it?”
Jade saw the red, blue and yellow stone pendant Papa had been holding in his hand when he died, the threads still tied to it. Mama peered at it but there was recognition on her face.
“It was a company item,” Jade said, then leaned forward to snatch the pendant out of Rose’s hand. A lump formed in her throat as she tied it around her wrist like a bracelet. She had no idea what it was, but was comforted to know Papa held it when he’d breathed his last breath. As though this little object carried around a piece of him.
Rose smiled. “All settled then. Congratulations Jade, you are now the owner of Gariq Industries! I hope you will be as successful with it as your father was.” She bundled out of the room without another word and Jade breathed deeply to steady herself.
Rose’s words echoed in her ears. You are now the owner of Gariq Industries. Her stomach lurched.
Beside her, Mama let out a sob as the wooden door shut behind Rose. Jade rubbed Mama’s back and murmured words of comfort. Uncle Zorman stared at the place where Rose had sat, deep in thought.
Mama sniffed and turned to Jade with a small smile. “One good thing to come out of this,” she said. “I won’t lose you. You can’t go into the Force now, not as the President of Gariq Industries.” Mama cupped Jade’s cheek in her hand. Jade forced a smile, though she felt like she’d swallowed lead. “You don’t need to stay with me. I’m all right. Go and do the paperwork so that we can make this official.”
Jade let her mother push her towards the door.
In the corridor and out of Mama’s sight, Jade’s shoulders sagged. She should be proud to be Papa’s heir. Of course, the honour usually went to the first born, but since Basalt had died, she’d unofficially taken up the title of ‘heir’. Now Papa’s Will made it official, or would, once Jade completed the paperwork. It could, in rare circumstances, be bestowed on someone else—if a child was incompetent, ill or somehow unsuitable. Basalt would have made an excellent heir. Would she? Did she want to? As Mama said, now she was owner of Gariq Industries, she couldn’t go into the Force and travel the Dragonverse. She would be stuck in Taraqa, letting others seek treasure and make trades that would keep Gariq Industries profitable.
Later would really never come. Not now.
There was a bitter taste in Jade’s mouth as she made her way slowly through the corridors. She knew she should do the transfer paperwork and be proud of the honour her father had bestowed. But in her heart, this was a prison sentence—for life.
Jade wished she could confide in someone. Growing up, she’d always shared her problems with Neve and Kyssa but since they’d all finished school, they’d drifted their separate ways. Neither of them would understand. Neve wo
uld listen but offer no advice. She never wanted to leave Taraqa, so she’d never understand Jade’s yearning. Kyssa? No, Kyssa had always been jealous of her family’s business and the status it provided. She wouldn’t understand that Jade felt trapped.
For the first time, Jade understood how much she had come to appreciate Axel’s friendship. Since meeting on the first day Jade walked into the Gariq Industries offices as Papa’s apprentice, they had become close friends. Axel was an outsider; he didn’t mix in the same circles as her family and friends. She’d heard rumours of his shady past and knew he was different to the other people she knew. Perhaps this was what she liked about him: he listened and understood her.
If only she could ask him what to do. He knew Gariq Industries and her desire to travel. He felt strongly about honour and duty, like Papa had. He wouldn’t be flippant or judgmental. Jade ran a hand through her hair, coming to a stop. The walls of the Inner Ring pressed in on her. Axel wasn’t here to offer advice and, after she signed the transfer papers, her future would be fixed.
Jade straightened her shoulders and continued towards the Transfers Office. It was no good wishing things were different. They were not. She inherited Gariq Industries and that was that.
* * *
The Transfers Office was located in the Inner Ring, near the Office of Portal Records. On her way, Jade paused in the archway to Our Lady’s Court, squinting against the glare of the sunlight gleaming off the opposite wall. When her eyes adjusted, she watched Travellers milling around—one touched down on the mosaic floor as another leapt into the air. With several strokes of her powerful wings, the Traveller disappeared into the mass of Portal clouds.
I’ll never make that journey now, Jade thought.
She stepped back into the shadows, bumping into someone in her haste. Kyssa was in uniform and Jade assumed she was leaving. The unfairness of it soured her mouth. She looked away.
Kyssa looked taken aback. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Sorry,” Jade sighed. “It’s not you. It’s just…” How could she explain to Kyssa that she’d just inherited something others dream of, but it would cost her her dream. Kyssa wouldn’t understand. Without family connections, her childhood friend had worked for everything she’d ever had. Growing up, Kyssa’s desire to prove herself had fed into a fierce competition between the two. Secretly Jade wished she was as free as Kyssa to Travel and choose her own path, but Kyssa would give anything to work for Gariq Industries.
“I know.” Kyssa flashed her a pitying smile before Jade could finish. “Your dad and everything.” She paused, then added, “And Axel, of course.”
Jade stared at her. Axel?
Kyssa shrugged. “Not exactly perfect timing for him to flit off-world when your dad… you know… passed…” Kyssa cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “You could probably use a shoulder to cry on. Especially that shoulder. Right?”
Jade nodded, then hesitated. “I didn’t know Axel went off-world.”
“I was on duty in the Office of Portal Records when Axel signed out. The same night your papa passed.”
Jade didn’t respond. Papa had died a couple of days ago and Axel had been gone the whole time. Travellers sometimes spent weeks off-world before returning. Even if she tried to reach him via Porter, there was no guarantee the message would get to him before he returned.
Kyssa squeezed Jade’s arm. “Don’t stress about Axel. He’s not worth it.”
Jade stared wistfully at the open-air column rising towards the Portal. Axel would know what to do. But if he didn’t get back within the next few minutes, the deed would already be done.
She sighed and stood aside to let Kyssa past.
“Where are you off to this time?” Jade asked.
“Me?” Kyssa made a face. “Nowhere. I’ve got an on-world posting as the supervising officer for the Office of Portal Records for a month—a break from active duty. I told them I didn’t need respite, but apparently everyone has to take a turn. By the end of the month, I’ll be poking myself in the eye with a stick for a bit of fun.”
Kyssa moved away. Jade searched the skies again.
Axel didn’t appear. Then she turned to the heavy door marked with the Temple’s insignia—Our Lady Taraqa curled in sleep. It was a symbol all Taraqans knew from children’s stories. Our Lady Taraqa, their Dragon-God who slept at the centre of their world, whose Dreams created everything around Her like a cocoon. The carving rendered Our Lady in fine detail and Jade reached out her fingers to run over the ridges of the scales that ran down Her back.
She took a deep breath and leaned her weight against the door.
“Little Jay!”
Uncle Zorman was striding towards her, frowning. Fleetingly, Jade wondered why, since Papa hadn’t left him anything in his Will.
“I’m glad I caught you,” Zorman said.
Jade stepped back from the door, relieved to delay the inevitable.
“Let’s walk,” he suggested, then led Jade around the corridors and out of the Temple through the smaller eastern archway. They came to a stop outside, and Jade stood next to Zorman with the Temple behind her. The red dirt of the plain stretched out in all directions and a heat shimmer blurred her view of The Fangs—the mountain range in the distance. The near-midday sun beat down on her and Jade held up a hand to shield her eyes from its glare.
Zorman stood silently, which struck Jade as strange, since her uncle was never short of the right thing to say.
“Everything all right, Uncle Z?”
Zorman’s expression was serious. “I should be asking you that question. You looked less than happy at being named President of Gariq Industries.”
Jade dropped her eyes, shame flushing over her skin. She fixed her eyes on a jagged peak of The Fangs, searching for the right thing to say. But the words wouldn’t come.
There was another silent pause before Zorman spoke again. This time his voice was gentle. “Do you know what I think?”
Jade’s throat tightened.
“This isn’t how you imagined your life would turn out. When you think about your future, I bet you don’t see yourself running Gariq Industries.”
Jade’s vision blurred with tears. She tried to hold herself together, unable to say anything without the tears spilling over.
“You know how I know? Because I’ve been through the same thing. Living a life I didn’t imagine for myself. I don’t want the same thing for you.”
“What can I do about it? Papa’s Will—”
“Magnus left Gariq Industries to you. But is it what you want? I thought you had different dreams?”
Jade clenched her jaw, holding in her emotions. The floodgates were almost bursting, threatening to let out all the grief, fear and despair she was barricading inside.
“You were a little girl with big dreams of travelling the Dragonverse, wearing a black uniform and serving Our Lady. You’re too young to give up on your dreams.”
“Papa’s Will was clear,” Jade said. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Zorman looked out to the horizon. “There is another option. I could take on the business until you’ve served in the Force.”
Jade stared at him. Her breath caught in her throat. She looked up at the Portal clouds, then heard Mama’s words in her mind: I won’t lose you.
Zorman cocked his head to the side. “You don’t want to serve?”
“I do! But Mama worries… because of Basalt…”
Zorman nodded. “Esme is afraid. She doesn’t want to lose her only daughter. Still, it’s the duty of every Taraqan to serve in the Force. Our Lady created us for it. Could you look your employees in the eyes if you shirk such obligation?”
“I never wanted to,” Jade said, defensively.
Zorman held up his hands. “I know that. But will they? Look—”
“Wouldn’t it be a betrayal of Papa?” Jade blurted out, cutting him off. “He wanted me to have Gariq Industries. If I give it away—”
“You won’t be gi
ving it away,” Zorman said, cutting her off. “I’m only proposing a caretaker situation, while you serve your time, that’s all. It will give you time to prepare yourself for the burden of running such a large company. Nobody would object to that.”
“Mama would.” Jade heard her own sullen tone and wished she didn’t sound like a petulant child.
“Let me take care of Esme,” Zorman said, looking Jade in the eyes before putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t live a life of regrets. I speak from experience—don’t wish you’d lived your life differently.”
A kernel of hope flare in Jade’s chest. “You’ll run Gariq Industries? Just for a couple of years, while I serve my time in the Force?”
Zorman drew her into a hug. “Of course, Little Jay. Anything for you.”
Jade enjoyed the protective feeling of his arms around her. It made her remember the time after Basalt died, when her parents were so immersed in their own grief they forgot she existed. Mama had fallen into a depression that confined her to bed and Papa was always busy at work. She’d barely seen either of them. It was Uncle Zorman who visited every day, made sure she was eating, and took her flying to get her out of the house. In the depths of her grief, her uncle had held her in his arms while she sobbed. Jade hadn’t seen as much of him in recent years, since he spent so much time off-world, but he had a habit of showing up when she needed him.
Of course, she should have talked to Uncle Zorman from the beginning.
For the first time since Papa had died, she felt the lightness of someone who carried no burdens.
* * *
Jade sat cross-legged on the plush, embroidered cushions in the living room of their home, rigid and tense.
Nothing had changed since Papa had died. The same bright tapestries covered the walls and delicately woven mats lined the floors. An array of cushions surrounded a squat table where the steam from a pot of tea swirled into the air, hanging thick among the tension of the room. All around, reminders of the family business—paintings, carvings and statues gathered from the many and strange cultures with whom Gariq Industries traded—now stared down at her accusingly.