by Lucia Ashta
The shadow man passed his open palms across the body of his brother several times, as his brother’s body were a flame, and he needed to warm his hands. But that’s when his motions lost all familiarity.
He began moving his hands across his brother’s shell so quickly that I no longer could see the specifics of his motions. His hands melded with his brother, with the rocky ground behind him, as if he and everything that surrounded him were part of one greater whole.
I startled when a clapping sound swept across the distance between us. I thought the man had brought his palms together, but I wasn’t sure. I inched closer, drawn to him and his magic, though it wasn’t enough to bring what he did into focus.
I didn’t turn to look, but I sensed the rapt attention of the Ooba forcers. Like me, they’d never seen anything like this before. They wouldn’t have. The shadow man was doing what Pumpoo would have condemned us for—an automatic death sentence.
A glow sprang to life between the man’s palms. It was small at first, as if he’d captured the sun and shrunken it. But as he spread his palms wider apart, and the orange glow illuminated all the secrets of his shadow flesh, I saw him well for the first time.
He looked much like his brother, with similar hair and bottomless eyes as dark as night. His skin was a dark, warm brown, several shades darker than our own, designed to blend into the shadows.
The orange glow grew. Its edges became as defined as the man himself, continuing to reveal the secrets the shadows usually hid. A warm orange showed the man and girl naked except for small scraps of clothing that barely concealed breasts and groin. Like most of the forcers, they were barefoot, all tight flesh and elongated muscle—the bodies of people attuned to Origins and its ways. People who tore across the ground as only those who felt part of it could.
Oddly, even though I stood among my people, I felt drawn to the shadow man and girl, as if they too were my people. It made no sense, but the sensation was too strong to ignore. Something joined me to them that had to run beneath appearances.
The orange glow continued to grow between his palms, until it coalesced into something defined. What before had looked like a swirling mass of energy, one without borders, which seemed as if it might never be contained within a defined form, settled into something fixed.
The man held a big, solid-looking ball of continually swirling orange between his hands when his daughter began to sing. She closed her eyes, and appeared to sing to the sun above us, as wolves howled to the moon.
The distance between us did nothing to dampen the keening sounds, the ones that spoke of deep loss, of heartbreak, and of the eventual mending of hearts. I experienced her pain as my own, as if her loss was mine, as if I’d known this man all along.
Her voice was haunting yet filled with hope, apparent contradictions that combined into an aching beauty. It was as if she sang to me, and no one else was there.
My eyes trained on the ball of magic, eager to see what the shadow man intended to do with it, until I could no longer resist the pull of the girl’s call.
I took a single step closer, then another, and a third.
Dean grabbed my arm, his eyes questioning. I looked back at him. Whatever filled my eyes was enough to convince him to let my arm go.
He dropped it, and I continued my solitary walk. The hot rock beneath the soles of my feet, the dirt that slithered between my toes, the stretching of my calves—it all faded into the background. The heat of the sun on my skin faded until all I felt was how her words brought my skin to life in a way I’d never experienced before.
My eyes blurred until I no longer saw the forms of man and daughter, nor the shell of their relative spread out on the ground in front of them. Whatever shape their shadows had achieved melted into colors as bright as the ball the man held between his hands.
Form dissolved into its parts, and an awareness far in the back of my mind signaled that this must be the energy that Dean spoke of but hadn’t seen himself. The shadow people glowed. The energy—or perhaps faithum—which comprised them vibrated, never still, the energy of life continually transitioning into something else, never dying.
I kept on walking toward them with enough lack of awareness to ignore whatever caution I might have otherwise felt at approaching a people we knew next to nothing about. I sensed whispers coming from my people behind me, but they were too weak to reach me where I was.
I moved—seeing and not seeing—seeing beyond what I’d ever seen before.
The girl’s melody rippled across my skin, burrowing beneath it, resonating beyond the definition of this body.
When I reached them, they didn’t look up. The girl’s song escalated as it slid into a crescendo of haunting, delicate sounds. I wanted her singing never to stop, yet I knew the end was coming.
I squatted next to her and put my hands out, palms forward, just as her father did. I didn’t look at them any more than they looked to me. It wasn’t necessary.
An energy began to grow between my palms, as if the sun were rising between them. I watched it expand with unfocused eyes, as if it were the most natural thing in this world. Its energy swirled in continuous motion, never defining itself.
And when the song drew to a close, its final sounds spreading across the ground, across the empty shell in front of us, expanding until it faded, and its energy transitioned into something else, her father released the ball he’d formed.
Without any notion of what I was doing, I released the squirming ball I’d collected.
The father’s magic hit his brother’s body first. Seconds later, my faithum joined his. The body trembled, then its edges, which had shed its shadows in death, dissolved. The body faded until there was nothing left to it.
It merged with the light and drifted upward until I lost sight of it in the bright sunshine.
The girl reached a hand to clasp mine. I blinked, coming to sudden awareness. What have I done? I thought, like a sleepwalker who woke with a start.
You’ve honored us by joining us to send off my uncle. The girl’s voice was as melodic in my mind as it had been in song.
I met her dark brown eyes, almost black, tremulously. Her smile was encouraging, and I dared to offer her a meek one of my own.
Then Rane shook up my energy. He raced to me, his body vibrating with alarm and concern for me. Anira, he said, are you all right?
The shadow man and his daughter trained every bit of their attention on Rane and me, traveling back and forth.
You’re twins, the man’s voice reached into me like little more than the awed whisper it was meant to be.
Rane and I looked up, shocked. There was no place we could hide from our secret now.
10
The denial of what we were hung on Rane’s lips; I knew it, because it did on mine too. But how could we deny what was so plain to the eye?
I looked to my twin, but he didn’t return my questioning gaze. His eyes were pinned on the shadow man across from him, the one who had the power to decide our fate. Rane stared as if the man were a wild animal, to whom Rane had to prove his worthiness to avoid attack.
I felt the girl’s eyes land on me, but I didn’t acknowledge her. I was terrified to break the connection between my twin and me, afraid of what he might do to protect me.
Finally, when I could no longer stand the tension, Rane crouched closer and leaned his head against mine. He whispered between our minds as softly as he could manage it, proof of his desperation as I’d already told him the shadow man could communicate through thoughts, and the process had never been as easy between Rane and me as it was with Dean.
He said, Run and don’t look back. Hide until I find you.
Rane’s words, little more than a caress despite their panic, arrived as he’d intended. I wanted to tell him he was out of his mind if he thought I was going to run off and leave him, Traya, and Rosie here alone. Rosie, I thought, then stopped myself. When I’d walked away, I’d forgotten about her, affected as I was by the girl’s son
g.
I pulled back from Rane far enough so he could focus on my face, which apparently looked exactly like his, and was about to deliver us a death sentence. I smiled tightly, and through my smile I tried to convey all I was thinking. I clamped down on my mind—hard—forcing myself not to give anything away. For once, my mind obeyed, and it went blank—or maybe that was due to the loud pulsing of blood through my head that overwhelmed most everything else.
I arranged my features into what I imagined might say, Are you out of your mind, Rane? I’m not going anywhere if it means abandoning you. We’re twins. We’ll face whatever comes together, as we’re meant to.
It was immediately obvious that Rane either didn’t understand what I meant to convey, or he didn’t care. He clinched a hand around my bicep and squeezed, pushing me to stand. I resisted, of course, while attempting not to let on for our audience of shadow father and daughter. Rane squeezed harder, and I did my best not to wince.
Rosie chose that moment to come bounding over to me. She licked my cheek, wagged her tail, and plopped happily across my knees; her weight made them dig into the hard ground, but I didn’t move an inch.
“Get up,” Rane said to Rosie, his eyes still pinned on the man he considered a threat.
“Leave her, Rane,” I said. “She’s all right.”
Rane growled in frustration, a low sound, which rumbled deep in his chest.
“It’s all right, girl,” I said to Rosie. “You stay with me.” The shadow man had said they protected dragons, and it was clear that’s what I was doing. Or maybe they’d just take Rosie with them, and protect her themselves. I slid Rosie down my knees a bit and bent over to embrace her. I pressed my chest against her, she looked up at me questioningly. She must feel my heart thumping. “Shh,” I whispered to her, and kissed her head, still silky soft with unformed scales. “It’ll be fine.”
I dared to look at the shadow man. I raised my eyebrows in question, the ones that could speak for me now that I was visible.
Why do you fear us? he asked. We’ve said we would like to speak with you, not kill you.
You don’t intend to harm us? I asked, incredulity loaded with a lifetime of knowing that if anyone saw me I was dead, along with everyone I cared about.
Why on O would we want to harm you?
Because of who we are.... The man had just said we were twins, but I wasn’t about to be the one to emphasize the point. It was as obvious as it was dangerous.
The man looked at me with such bewilderment, that I turned to the girl. Her expression was as confused as her father’s. I looked to Rane. He didn’t know what to make of it either, but he scooted as close to me as he could, circling his arm around my shoulder.
Clearly, I was missing something. Maybe if I changed topics, maybe they’d just forget they were staring at twins. Yeah, that’s sure to work, Anira, I thought before I remembered, and would have laughed at the stupidity of it all if I hadn’t been so nervous.
So... I started. What was that we just, uh, did? With your brother, I mean. The one I killed. Dang, I sure knew how to bring things back around to dangerous topics. I resisted the urge to shrink into myself, and waited.
That was magic, the man said, as if doing magic were the most natural thing to do on all of Origins. Surely you know that, you did it too.
“Are you hearing what he’s saying in your head?” I asked Rane, knowing the shadow man and girl didn’t understand our spoken language.
“Aye, but don’t be rude.”
He meant, don’t keep speaking in a language they don’t understand, because that’s disrespectful. As if glaring at the man hadn’t been impolite. But my brother wasn’t bothered by his contradictions; he did it all with a mind to protect me. I wouldn’t blame him for that.
What, exactly, did I do? I asked, trying to cover up for any interpreted rudeness.
The shadow man studied me for a long time. Finally, he said, You’re serious.
Aye.
But you did magic, how can you not know what you did?
I sensed Dean and Shula approaching, but kept my attention on the man who spoke to me. Our former chieftain, Pumpoo, whom you’ve met, forbade faithum, er, magic. No one among our people was allowed to work with magic in any way.
Or what?
Or he’d order us executed. The answer arrived quickly. I knew exactly what he’d do because he’d done it before. Pumpoo hadn’t hesitated to eliminate faithum from the Ooba people. He’d done it as if he were eliminating a deadly disease.
I sensed the man and girl’s shock ripple across the small space, which separated us when Dean and Shula arrived. They were careful to circle the patch of ground where the body of the shadow man’s brother had laid, even though there was no sign of anything now—not even a singe mark. Dean and Shula crouched on the other side, opposite Rane, completing a haphazard circle.
Is everything well here? Dean asked. His words were gentle in my mind, but I felt their strength. If things weren’t well, Dean was prepared to do whatever was necessary to fix them.
Aye, everything is well, though my daughter and I are confused.
About?
How this girl here can do magic, but claims she doesn’t know what she’s doing. How she tells me that your people were forbidden from doing magic on penalty of death.
It’s true. The man, who infiltrated your people, deceived ours for a very long time. During more than a millennia, he plotted to build his own power at the harm of our people.
So your people do not have access to magic, beyond what this girl knows?
There are only a handful of us who defied the chieftain to explore magic anyway. But what we can do is limited, only what we’ve been able to explore on our own.
Even though I hadn’t noticed the man and his daughter speaking, he said, My daughter and I trust you. We’ll take you back to our village. There your men and women can rest while we talk.
Just like that? Rane said. He intended the question only for me, but the shadow man answered. Far from it, he said. We don’t trust outsiders lightly, which is why we haven’t fully trusted your former chieftain.
Then why trust us? Rane said.
As we already said, your sister has convinced us. If a dragon trusts her, so do we.
Besides, the man said as he stood, we’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.
My heart thudded out one terrifying word. Waiting? I understood what he must mean before he answered.
For you and your brother. We’ve been waiting for twins to arrive for longer than I’ve been alive.
11
I’d tried never to imagine what might happen if the relationship between Rane and I were ever discovered. I’d envisioned scenes where the two of us ran across town, until the villagers caught and delivered us to Pumpoo, after which we’d die a long and painful death for daring to be what was most forbidden to the Ooba.
Not once had I imagined the discovery of a race of people that would actually want twins.
I didn’t need to look at Rane to figure out what he was feeling. His shock and bewilderment filtered across the division of our bodies, and I experienced his shock as intensely as my own.
I startled when the shadow girl touched my arm. I hadn’t noticed her drawing around the circle to my side. Up close, I could make out her face better. It continued to swirl and move among the shadows, which concealed her skin, but it was easier to get a feeling for her expressions. I thought she was smiling in entreaty, offering herself in friendship, perhaps. Come with me. You’ll be safe, I promise. None of my people will want to harm you for being twins.
All right, I stuttered. I moved my feet under me and stood, but my movements seemed as if they were another person’s, not my own. When I reached a hand to pet Rosie, it was as if I were watching someone else do it.
Rane looped an arm through mine, and stuck to me like adhesive. The girl looped an arm through my free one—quite a bold move—and Rosie bumped against my legs as I started to move.
It felt as if Rane and the girl were carrying me along in a dream. For all I knew, they might have been. My brain was lagging. I couldn’t quite manage to process all that was happening.
I hope you don’t mind my freedoms, the girl said.
Your... freedoms?
She lifted our joined arms. Ah, the liberty she was taking in assuming I’d want her this close.
Your song is what led me to do magic. Whatever magic I’d done. I felt you. It wasn’t a direct response to her comment, but she seemed to understand what I meant, what my foggy mind had spit out.
Good. I thought it would be all right. I felt you too.
I wasn’t surprised. Her song had been... something incredible.
I’m Luma.
When I didn’t say anything, she looked across my body to Rane.
I’m Rane. This is Anira.
Luma already knew my name, I thought. She hadn’t known Rane’s.
It is my honor to meet you both. All three of you, really. Rosie isn’t the first dragonling I’ve seen, but I’ve never been this close to one before. Even with as much as the dragons trust us, they don’t allow us near their young for the most part—except for my cousin.
I thought I might have sensed a bit of resentment there, but I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t sure of much of anything just then. It was a miracle I was moving at all.
I sensed another voice in my head. Don’t worry, Anira. These people won’t hurt you, I won’t let them. Shula. I hadn’t realized Shula could speak in my mind, and with so much ease, but then, I didn’t suppose it should surprise me. Dean respected and trusted her. Undoubtedly, she was far more extraordinary than I realized.
I nodded, assuming Shula would understand I was thanking her... or something. It was all a fog, too much of one, actually. After a lifetime of fearing the worst, when it finally arrived, it seemed the shock of it might kill me before anyone else had the chance.