An Accident of Stars

by Foz Meadows

  “OK,” she said, hoarsely.

  * * *

  Gwen Vere – that’s the other woman who vanished, the one from the school – she stopped me from being harassed by another student, Jared Blake, at lunch. She said she was thinking of applying for a job at the school and wanted to get a look at the campus. I wanted to thank her for helping me, so after school, I went looking to see if she was still there. She’d been for a walk along the cross country track, and I found her by the chemistry labs. We started talking. She was nice. We got quite close to the footpath that runs by the road, but we had our backs to it, and suddenly this guy jumped out and attacked me. He was white, somewhere in his forties; I don’t remember much more than that. I think he’d seen my uniform and thought I was alone, but when he realised Ms Vere – Gwen – was there too, he went for her as well. She tried to fight him off, but he was pretty strong, and then I got knocked out. I think I was put in a car boot after that, but the next thing I remember, both of us were tied up in a basement, and the guy was wrapping a blindfold around my head.

  He kept talking to people who weren’t there – not invisible friends, but characters in a story. He wanted to play the hero, someone he’d created, and that’s why he’d taken us, to be his props. So everything he did to me – he was really only interested in me; he cut Gwen a bit once, when she started yelling at him to stop –it was all just part of the story. It doesn’t really make sense, I know, but even though he was the one doing everything, he only thought of himself as the hero, and I was the damsel he needed to save. But before he could save me, somebody had to hurt me, so there was something he could rescue me from.

  No, I don’t think he was mentally ill. He was lucid. Functional. He’d just made up a story, and he wanted me to be part of it. No, I didn’t see him take any drugs or pills. Not even once.

  He cut my fingers off on the first night, after he shaved my head. He was acting like someone else then, but once it was done – once he’d “saved” me from the villain – he sat me down and stitched it all back up again. No, I don’t know if he’d had any medical training; I didn’t even see what he did. He kept the blindfold on me the whole time. But I guess I’ve healed pretty well. He did disinfect my wounds, I know that much – it hurt so much when he did my fingers, I screamed and passed out. But at least he cleaned it up. The other scars… that was weirder. It was hard to tell, but I think part of the story was about rescuing me from dragons, like a captured princess in a fairy tale. So he had this sort of glove, like a claw-glove – I mean, I guess that’s what it was. It’s not like he had an actual dragon or anything, and the blindfold wasn’t so dark that I couldn’t see the outline of things. It was blurry, but it just looked like he had something weird strapped to his hand. And he used it on me.

  He used it on me a lot.

  But it was like with the fingers, too. As soon as it was over, he cleaned everything up. He wanted to save me, he said. It wasn’t really him, it was the villain, it was the dragons, it was always something else. The tattoo was part of it, too; he did that when I was knocked out, like everything else. I don’t quite remember when. And Gwen – well, I guess she was his audience. He only ever spoke to her if she interrupted. But most of the time, he just left us alone in the basement. He’d untie us, but keep the blindfolds on, and tell us he had a knife or a gun, and to stay where we were until he was out of the room. Then, once the door closed, we could take the blindfolds off, and he’d have left us food. There was a sink and a toilet in the corner, and a couple of old mattresses, but that was it. And when he wanted to come back in again, he’d stand outside the door and say the same thing: that he was armed, that we had to put on the blindfolds and face the wall, or else he’d kill us. Then he’d come back in, tie us up, and the story would keep going.

  I didn’t really know how long we were down there. It was hard to keep track of the days. There was one window, but we’d sleep during the day, and he didn’t always come down to us at the same time.

  No, he never touched me. Not that way. Not even once. He didn’t touch Gwen like that, either. Why would I lie about something like that?

  How did I escape? It was Gwen. The last time he came down, she just charged him – charged right at him and told me to run. He tried to grab me as I went past, to keep me back, but Gwen just leapt on him and kept yelling at me to go, go, go. Then I heard a weird noise – not a gunshot, I don’t know what it was, but it sounded like Gwen was hurt. Then something hit me over the head – I still had my blindfold on – and he shoved a cloth to my mouth and told me the story was over. It must’ve been chloroform, or something like that, but whatever Gwen did, it must’ve rattled him enough to let us go. Or to let me go, anyway; when I woke up again, I was back at the school, and there was no sign of her. The only thing was, he’d dressed me in new clothes while I was unconscious.

  I’m certain he didn’t touch me then – why would he, if he hadn’t before? Please, just stop asking about it. Please. Please.

  I don’t know if he was planning to kill himself. I don’t know what he meant when he said the story had ended. All I know is, he let me go, and I really hope he let Gwen go, too.

  I’m so tired. I don’t want to say anymore. I just want to see Gwen again. I just want to go home. Have you called my family yet?

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  * * *

  Saffron barely made it to the toilet in time. She threw up violently, knees cracking into the tiles, the taste of bile hot in her mouth as she emptied her stomach, retching until her sides ached. The story, and Roycroft’s reaction to it, had left her feeling physically ill – not just the utter, barefaced falsity of it, but the awful way Roycroft’s expression had lit up when she’d talked about the characters, the story. She’d practically heard him thinking, it all makes sense if the guy was crazy! And she’d tried, she’d tried to steer him away from that conclusion – no drugs, no pills – but it hadn’t worked; she hadn’t said the right thing. But what else could she have done? Unless she’d invented a story that involved some form of sexual assault or sadomasochistic abuse – or worse, both – there was no other way to plausibly explain what had happened to her. In order to have been missing for weeks, she and Gwen had to have been forcibly abducted; if they’d been forcibly abducted, then the perpetrator had to have a criminal motive; given Saffron’s injuries, she had to have met with violence, which statistically made the abductor male; and if his primary motivation hadn’t been either sexual or sadistic, then there was only one conclusion the police could draw, no matter what Saffron tried to say to the contrary.

  Which didn’t make it any less of a terrible thing to have done. If you were mentally ill, she knew, you were far more likely to be a victim of violence than a perpetrator; she’d learned that from her friend Lyssi, whose cousin was schizophrenic. But the truth didn’t matter, not when people wanted so badly to believe the opposite; not when “crazy” made for a better and more convincing explanation than dragons and queens and holes in the world. Maybe, if she were braver, she could have feigned amnesia, pretended to remember nothing, but Gwen had advised her against it, back in Yevekshasa: it would only invite extra psychological scrutiny of Saffron herself, the kind of analysis she couldn’t bluff her way through, and in the meantime, her family would still be imagining the very worst sort of ordeal. But oh, god – if they ever found someone who fit her description, some innocent person, and arrested him for hurting her – if she couldn’t get him set free, and he went to jail because she’d lied–

  She threw up again, and again, and again, until there was nothing left.

  Wiping her chin on a square of toilet paper, she flushed the vomit away, eased herself to her feet, and went to rinse her mouth at the sink. The story she’d told was pragmatic, and ostensibly victimless. The police would never find anyone to pin the abduction on, she told herself firmly, because the abduction had never taken place. But even so, it left her feeling criminal in a way she hadn’t anticipated, as rotten
as last month’s apples. False accusation. Liar. Liar. Liar.

  It was worse when her family arrived.

  She’d only had a bare minute to prepare herself before her mother and father burst in through the door, a trembling Ruby in tow. Ever since she’d first set foot in the station, Saffron had been bracing herself to see them again. She’d promised herself she’d be calm and collected, that the most important thing was to let them all see that she was safe and well, but a single glance at how harrowed they were – at the weight both parents had clearly lost; at the dark circles under her mother’s eyes, the new grey hair on her father’s head; at the wobbling of Ruby’s lip, and the way she fixated on Saffron’s shaved head – something inside her snapped. A slow wail inched its way up her throat, as treacherous as an escaping tapeworm, and as her parents opened their arms, she flung herself at them, sobbing as though her ribs were snapped and her heart torn out.

  They all collapsed together, three sets of knees hitting the station floor with a thump like a truck tipping over, and then Ruby was hugging her too, her sister’s thinner arms sneaking in through the gaps to clutch at her shoulders. All of them were crying, hard and desperate, while the police officers looked on quietly with the satisfaction of a job well done. It was only when they’d regained their feet, still huddled and wiping the tears from their eyes, that Saffron realised Roycroft was gone, slipping out unnoticed like a cat through a half-open door. She pointed this out, and her parents were dismayed; they wanted to thank him, they needed to thank him for finding their baby, even though he’d done nothing of the sort, but of course they could talk to him later, in daylight.

  And then there were forms to sign – the DOCS worker showed up just as they were leaving, and despite her clear shock and irritation at having missed Saffron’s interview, she was either unwilling or unable to make them stay longer – and then it was time to go home.

  The ensuing car ride was surreal. Without the police audience, all of them fell eerily silent, unable to ask the questions to which they so clearly wanted answers, like: where did you go? and are you OK? and did he touch you? The silence was so loud, it might as well have been screaming.

  Then Ruby said, in her smallest voice, “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  A lump rose in Saffron’s throat. “Ru–”

  “So I stole your red skirt. The one with the pandas on it. I’m sorry. I’ll give it back.” She paused. “But if you don’t want it anymore, then maybe I could keep it?”

  “You are not,” said Saffron, with as much sternness as she could muster, “keeping my panda skirt. But maybe – just maybe – you could borrow it.”

  Ruby’s face lit up, and everyone started laughing – not just nervous laughter, but the deep-seated, joyful relief that can only be found on the other side of tears.

  I’m whole, Saffron told herself, remembering Trishka’s long ago words, and so is my family. And just for a moment, she let herself believe it, right down to her marrow.

  But of course, it wasn’t that simple, braided path or not. Nothing ever was.

  Glossary

  Kenan

  Ahunemet – Mind-magic, telepathy. This gift is associated with Nihun, god of water.

  Arakoi – Soldiers whose service is sworn directly to the reigning Vex or Vexa.

  Cahlu – A green-blue smoking leaf.

  Cui’Halat – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a Cuivex or Cuivexa. The Cui’Halat is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of liveliness or vitality (halat), which is usually taken to mean physical beauty.

  Cui’Mara – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a Cuivex or Cuivexa. The Cui’Mara is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of kinship or blood (mara), which is usually taken to mean that they represent a favourable political alliance. For this reason, ’mara partners within the royal mahu’kedet are generally held to be more powerful than their other marriage-mates, and can sometimes hold more political sway than a Cuivex or Cuivexa.

  Cui’Sehet – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a Cuivex or Cuivexa. The Cui’Sehet is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of soul or wisdom (sehet), which is usually taken to mean intelligence, whether scholastic, magical or strategic.

  Cuivex – The primary male consort of a Vex or Vexa.

  Cuivexa – The primary female consort of a Vex or Vexa.

  Halat – Vitality, especially in the context of physical wellbeing and liveliness. Halat is one of the three primary attributes by which partners in the royal mahu’kedet are chosen.

  Hime – Goddess of the sky, and one of the six gods of the Second Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. Her counterpart is Lomo, her sacred colour is lilac, and her marital attribute is vitality (halat).

  Ilumet – Dream-magic, oneiromancy. This gift is associated with Hime, the sky goddess.

  Jahudemet – Portal-magic, worldwalking. This gift is associated with Ke, the star goddess.

  Kara – The Heavenly Child of Ke and Na, and one of the three gods of the First Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. Kara is a trickster who governs the moons, considered to be both sexless and all sexes. They have no consort, and their sacred colour is silver.

  Karavos – The capital city of Kena.

  Kashakumet – Telekinesis. This gift is associated with Na, the god of heaven.

  Ke – Goddess of the stars, and one of the three gods of the First Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. Her primary consort is Na, her secondary consorts are Yemaya, Sahu and Lomo, and her sacred colour is white.

  Kedebmet – Plant-magic, terramancy. This gift is associated with Lomo, god of earth.

  Kemeta – Magic-users who aren’t bound in service to a temple.

  Lomo – God of earth, and one of the six gods of the Second Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. His counterpart is Hime, his sacred colour is green, and his marital attribute is halat (vitality).

  Mahu’kedet – Literally, the “many-bond”, which is the Kenan equivalent of marriage. Though the royal mahu’kedet has a specific number of partners, all representing ideal virtues and with specific relationships to one another, for most Kenans, the mahu’kedet is a polyamorous union of two or more individuals whose relationships are not always romantic or sexual, but which is constructed around a culturally specific idea of family.

  Mara – Blood, particularly as relates to kinship and family. Mara is one of the three primary attributes by which partners in the royal mahu’kedet are chosen.

  Maramet – Blood-magic, commonly used to determine paternity. This gift is associated with Kara, the Heavenly Child.

  Na – God of heaven, and one of the three gods of the First Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. His primary consort is Ke, his secondary consorts are Nihun, Teket and Hime, and his sacred colour is black.

  Nihun – God of water, and one of the six gods of the Second Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. His counterpart is Yemaya, his sacred colour is blue, and his marital attribute is mara (blood).

  Roa – A long-haired, bipedal beast of burden. Friendly, herbivorous and native to Kena.

  Sahu – Goddess of wisdom, and one of the six gods of the Second Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. Her counterpart is Teket, her sacred colour is yellow, and her marital attribute is sehet (soul).

  Sehet – Soul, intelligence, strength of character. Sehet is one of the three primary attributes by which partners in the royal mahu’kedet are chosen.

  Sevikmet – Healing magic. This gift is associated with Teket, god of passion.

  Shavaktiin – An order of mystics and storytellers who believe that history is shaped by human stories. They go robed and veiled when acting as agents of the Great Story, to signify their participation as interchangeable servants rather than as distinct individuals, but are known to unveil when taking up discrete roles. (Though how they distinguish between these instances is seldom clear to outsiders; and, indeed, is a continuing subject of debate among the Shavaktiin themselves.)

 
; Taal – A traditional Kenan garment made of a single piece of cloth wrapped and knotted around the body in specific ways.

  Teket – God of passion, and one of the six gods of the Second Tier of the Celestial Hierarchy. His counterpart is Sahu, his sacred colour is purple, and his marital attribute is sehet (soul).

  Vekenai-asahuda – Worldwalker: literally “all-worlds pilgrim”. The word asahuda derives from Sahu, the goddess of wisdom, indicating one who travels divine paths in search of knowledge.

  Vex – A male monarch.

  Vex’Halat – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a reigning Vex. The Vex’Halat is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of liveliness or vitality (halat), which is usually taken to mean physical beauty.

  Vex’Mara – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a reigning Vex. The Vex’Mara is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of kinship or blood (mara), which is usually taken to mean that they represent a favourable political alliance. For this reason, ’mara partners within the royal mahu’kedet are generally held to be more powerful than their other marriage-mates, and can sometimes hold more political sway than a Cuivex or Cuivexa.

  Vex’Sehet – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a reigning Vex. The Vex’Sehet is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of soul or wisdom (sehet), which is usually taken to mean intelligence, whether scholastic, magical or strategic.

  Vexa – A female monarch.

  Vexa’Halat – One of the three chosen marriage-mates of a reigning Vexa. The Vexa’Halat is traditionally chosen for their embodiment of the quality of liveliness or vitality (halat), which is usually taken to mean physical beauty.