The Boy who Lit up the Sky (The Two Moons of Rehnor)

by J. Naomi Ay

  The boys had a raucous time at the park enjoying the waterslides immensely. I was nervous wreck. Even with the sunglasses and football jersey, it was pretty obvious who Senya was. After all, his face had been plastered all over the news these last few months. Anyone who attempted to get near to him or tried to speak to him was quickly surrounded or ushered away by our team. Cameras were everywhere, and everyone who could was snapping photos and making vids. Everyone else stared. They stared at me, they stared at Berkie and especially they stared at Senya. They moved out of the way and some knelt when we walked by. They stood immobile in their queues, which prompted Berkie to pull Senya past them all to the head of every line. Berkie thought it was great. Even Senya seemed to be having a good time. He laughed with Berkie and smiled once or twice.

  After several hours of getting wet, corn dogs, milkshakes, cotton candy and funnel cakes, Berkie insisted we go into the adjacent amusement park and play the carnival games. Money was no object for Berkie for the first time in his life, and he was determined to try everything even if all he won in return was a stuffed bear. Senya wasn't interested in tossing bean bags or balls at over-weighted milk bottles. He stood with Berkie and encouraged him but would not try anything himself. As in the water park, as soon as we approached a booth, the crowd backed off. We had almost finished our day at the park, the sky had turned to a dusky purple, and even Berkie was getting tired when we approached a booth with a substantial crowd.

  “I haven't done this one before,” Berkie cried pulling Senya towards the game. “This must be a new one.”

  The crowd parted for the boys to reveal a game called “Sink the Karut”. It consisted of a mock-up of none other than Senya sitting in a boat. The object of the game was to throw an oblong ball through a series of hoops. You had three chances, and if you made it through all three times, the boat would sink, and Senya would tip over into the water. You would also win a bear.

  “Oh,” Berkie said when he realized what the game was about. "I don't want to do this one."

  “I'll do it,” Senya said, and he stepped forward and put a coin down on the counter. The carney running the booth looked at him and all color drained from his face.

  “I dinn't make the game, Sir,” the carney said. "Me boss just tol' me to run it.”

  “Gimme the ball, eh?” Senya held out his hand.

  The carney hesitantly held out the first ball. Senya tossed it through the first series of hoops. The boat lurched downward. The second ball soared through the next series of hoops and the boat went further. The crowd behind us cheered. The last ball was just as accurate even though the hoops were smaller and further apart. The boat sunk, and the effigy of Senya tipped into the water, and the crowd went wild.

  “Great job, Senya,” Berkie cried. Senya smiled shyly. He started to walk away.

  “Ey!” the carney called. “Ey, Sir? Ye won this bear, eh?” and held out a giant stuffed bear. “Ye gets the big un. No un ever sunk the boat afore.”

  Berkie grabbed the bear which was nearly as big as he was and handed it to Senya.

  “What's it for?” Senya asked Berkie.

  “For nothing,” Berkie replied. “It's just nice. Girls like them.”

  Senya nodded. He took the bear from Berkie and walked back through the crowd until he found a girl about his own age and put the bear down in front of her. The girl’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew wide, but she enveloped the bear in her arms. Her mother fell to her knees and gazed up at Senya adoringly.

  “Thank you, Sir,” the girl whispered and Senya smiled slightly, his silver eyes shining in her face. Cameras snapped, and within moments the image of Senya, the girl hugging the giant stuffed bear while gazing at Senya like he was a god and the awestruck mother staring in the same way, were broadcast across the planet. By the time we returned exhausted to the Palace that evening, Senya with his arm in a sling and wearing the Raven's jersey, had become the pin-up heartthrob of every preteen girl on this Rehnor.

  11

  Mariya

  My cousin Lydia was said to be the most beautiful girl in all of Mishnah. At one time, when I was in my teens and Lydia gone only fourteen years, I was said to resemble her. Perhaps it is our common blood or simply the fact that we were both slight and blond. Though I called Lydia cousin, it was a distant relationship and Lydia was the Princess Royal while I was nothing more than a Lady and that only because my father was raised when he became Lord Governor of the prison colonies. My mother was always a Lady being the daughter of an earl and through her familial ties to the Queen's family and never did she cease to remind my father of her superior blood.

  I was raised in New Mishnah in a boarding school with other ladies of similar background and disposition. We were taught nothing practical as all that was expected of us was to marry someone of sufficient breeding and continue the process of bearing and raising children of superior blood. However, there lived within us the small fear that our blood should be superior enough to suffer the fate of Cousin Lydia whose tale was a legend among us.

  Poor Cousin Lydia, the Princess Royal, was tethered to none other than Sorkan de Kudisha. How dreadful it must have been for her, so beautiful, and clearly the most superior young lady in the entire planet, to have been forced into marriage at the tender young age of sixteen with a Karut. Never mind that Sorkan de Kudisha was the Crown Prince of Karuptani and never mind he was exceedingly handsome, with long black hair and black eyes of fathomless depth. Well over six foot tall and built like the warrior he was, he dwarfed tiny Lydia. And, he despised her as much as she despised him. What a thrill it was for us prepubescent girls to whisper at night about that dreadful man. And what a thrill it was for us post pubescent girls to dream at night about him coming to our beds.

  Sorkan de Kudisha was a terrible rogue and even on the day of his wedding, a magnanimous state affair, was said to have spent the time leading up to it in bed with a multitude of ladies both Mishnese and Karupta. He was also from thence forth a drunk and was rarely seen in any frame resembling sobriety.

  Sorkan and Lydia, the prodigy of kings, were mated so that they in turn would produce a son. This son was to be King of All Rehnor and because the blood of both nations ran through his veins, never again would we suffer the wars that had plagued our planet since it was settled a thousand years ago. Our prince was to be the only direct descendent of the Mishnese Saint, Markiis Kalila and the Karupta Infidel, Karukan de Kudisha.

  Lydia and Sorkan did manage to do the deed on their wedding night, and Lydia did immediately become pregnant. She delivered the infant into the hands of her father King Yokaa Kalila, six weeks before his expected arrival, and while everyone was struck dumb by this very strange creature that was destined to become their monarch, Lydia bled out through wounds said to have been caused by the claw like toenails of the baby. Thus ended the tragic tale of the Princess Royal, only moments after the even more tragic tale of her son, the MaKennah ka Rehnor, had begun.

  Of no consequence at all, I was born two months later to my mother, Lydia's third cousin, thrice removed. I was born in the hospital wing of the penal colony residing on the Child Moon which my father had only recently taken over the governorship. Unlike her cousin, my mother was genuinely glad to see me and did not die upon my arrival. Had she wanted to, it would have been easy. She simply would have to open an exterior door and step outside without a moon suit. My parents heralded my arrival with grand announcements throughout the colony, granted one half days rest to all prisoners and issued email alerts to all family members far and wide including the Palace which was still very much in mourning for the loss of Lydia and the infant.

  I grew up a relatively happy child although my parents had long ceased to care for each other. My father doted on me intensely and granted me every wish while my mother doted on the various young prisoners who guarded our home. The more handsome they were, the closer they were posted to her bedchamber. At the age of eight, I was sent to aforementioned boarding school visiting th
e Child Moon only twice a year, on Saint's Day and my birthday.

  Shortly before my twelfth birthday I was woken well before dawn by my mother. “Oh Mariya,” she cried loud enough to wake my roommates in the neighboring beds. “The most incredible thing has happened. The Crown Prince has been found!” I rubbed my sleepy eyes and glanced at my roommates who could hear every word. What did she mean? The Crown Prince was dead. We all knew that.

  “No, no, no!” she cried. “That's not the case at all. Dear uncle, King Yokaa, only told everyone the child was dead so that he could spirit him away from the awful Karuts and raise him solely in Mishnah.” With Lydia dead, she went on to explain, the Karut prince would have been his only surviving parent so of course, he would be unduly influenced. King Yokaa had apparently sent the child away to live with a Mishnese family, but something happened, and he was lost but now he was found. “Turn on the vid,” Mother practically screamed. “You'll see him on the vid now. Oh, Mariya, this could be the most fortunate, wondrous thing to happen to you. You are his own blood cousin. You could be his wife, Mariya! You could be Queen.” My roommates started to giggle as I signed off on my mother and quickly switched on the vid. There before our very eyes was the MaKennah ka Rehnor. He was standing awkwardly with the King on the balcony of the Palace looking about as miserable as any twelve year old in a dress uniform could look. The King was waving and smiling at the cheering crowds while the MaKennah remained stone faced.

  “Look at him,” Leesa said. “There's your future husband, Mariya.” She burst into giggles.

  “He looks just like an ugly Karut,” Patti said. “He doesn't look Mishnese at all.”

  I zoomed the vid in on a close up and could not but agree. True, he was much fairer skinned than the Karuts. In fact, he was very pale, but he still had the long black hair and the face of Prince Sorkan. You would not mistake him for a Mishnese. Curiously enough, his eyes were closed as if he were pretending not to be there

  “Oh, he's so creepy!” Leesa said.

  “Ugly!” Patti agreed.

  “He is our next king,” I reminded them and jointly we cried, “Ewww!”

  I saw Sehron de Kudisha in person a few months later. Myself and all the other ladies of blood between the ages of ten and twenty were paraded before him in a giant cattle call at the Palace. My mother had acquired for me a beautiful new gown that had a substantially padded bust to enhance and lift my own not so substantial bust, and she had personally come to the planet to do my hair and chaperone me to the Palace. We were herded in groups into a great ballroom and then individually walked up to the dais where he was standing next to the King. We made obeisance to the King and curtseyed to the Crown Prince, and our names were announced, and then we were quickly ushered away to make room for the next group.

  “Did he speak to you, Mariya?” My mother immediately seized upon me as I exited the ballroom. “Did you tell him you are his cousin?”

  “No, Mother,” I replied, taking the aching pins out of my hair. I was one of probably two thousand girls paraded before him today, and he did not speak to any of us. In fact he stood there practically catatonic, looking as miserable or more so than he did on the first day we saw him on the balcony. I could say, although I did not repeat it to my mother nor any of my roommates, I found him far more appealing than on that first day. Though he did look very much a Karut and his silver eyes were even creepier in person than on the vid, he was also incredibly beautiful. In fact, I knew as we drove away from the Palace that night, I would spend many future nights curled in my bed dreaming of the day that I might suffer the fate of my cousin Lydia and be mated to this Karut. I wouldn't suffer it though. I would love him passionately for every moment of my life.

  12

  Taner

  I was reading a book in the living room one evening, lamenting my lack of a social life that did not include twelve year old boys when Berkie came out of the bedroom.

  “I'm gonna throw up,” he announced and ran into the bathroom. I followed him and stood for a moment while he heaved everything in his stomach into the toilet. I wasn't sure what else to do other than wet a cloth and wash his face.

  “I want my mum,” he said.

  “Ok,” I replied. “Why don't we get you back to bed and I'll ring your mum to come over now.”

  “I don't want to go back in there,” he said, pointing at the bedroom.

  I gazed at the bedroom door. Senya had been so good these last few months. I had a sick feeling it was all about to end. “Is Senya in there?”

  Berkie shook his head no.

  “Ok,” I replied and settled him on the sofa with a blanket. I rang Loman and told him to come get his son and asked for backup. Then I went into the bedroom. No, Senya was definitely not in his bed. No problem, he's chipped now, right?

  Loman came in with a transponder and two of our guards.

  “He's in the bedroom,” Loman said, reading the screen.

  “He's not,” I replied. “I was just there.”

  “The chip's in the bedroom,” Berkie whispered.

  Loman and I raced back into the bedroom with the transponder only to discover that a very bloody wet chip was sitting on the window ledge.

  “Berkan!” Loman hollered. “How did this get here?”

  Berkie stood in the doorway pale as a ghost and looking like he was about to throw up all over again.

  “He took it out.” Berkie burst into tears. “With a blade.”

  “Blessed Saint,” Loman mumbled.

  I looked out the window at the dark beach. The Child Moon had risen, and the sky was full of stars. Without the transponder, finding Senya in the forest, assuming he went that direction, would be nearly impossible. Of course, finding him back in Old Mishnah might be even more difficult.

  “Why'd he do it, Berkie?” I asked, walking him back to the sofa.

  “Where'd he get the knife?” Loman demanded.

  Berkie shrugged. “From nowhere,” he sniffed. “The same nowhere that he gets all the stuff he wants.”

  “Did he say where he was going?” I asked.

  Berkie shrugged again. “He said he was hungry.”

  “Didn't you guys just have pizza an hour ago?”

  “He didn't want pizza,” Berkie replied and then took a big gulp of air. “He said he needed something fresh.”

  “Fresh?” Loman said.

  “He said I wouldn't like it, so I wasn't to come with him.”

  “Fresh like alive?” I asked. "And bloody?"

  Berkie shrugged again. “Can I go back to bed now? Will you take that thing away?” He pointed at the chip.

  “Go back to bed,” Loman agreed and I wrapped the chip in a handkerchief while he tucked his son in.

  Loman and I and the two other guards prepared to head out. It was clear but bitterly cold as we were in the midst of winter, a few weeks from the cusp of spring. I grabbed my jacket, torch and cell.

  “Where would he go?” Loman asked as we walked down the stairs to the beach. “If he was looking for something fresh, it wouldn't be Old Mishnah, more likely the forest.”

  I shone my torch on the sand, fruitlessly searching for footprints. Senya most likely was barefoot as even in the best of circumstances, it was difficult to keep shoes on him.

  An owl hooted overhead, and I turned my torch on it. It scampered off into the forest hunting for something.

  “Owl?” one of the guards smirked. “A little tough but fresh meat.”

  The other guard laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past that Karut to rip the bloody sucker apart with his fangs.”

  “That’s enough,” Loman snapped, but their chattered triggered something in me, and I instantly knew where Senya had gone.

  “The King took Senya to see his falcons the other day,” I announced turning around and heading back toward the Palace.

  “I know,” Loman replied. “His Majesty wanted to see if the sport was of interest to him.”

  “The birds didn't like Senya.” I quic
kened my pace. “They started screeching as soon as he came near even though they were hooded. The King took out his bird and tried to slip him off, but the bird wouldn't go. He refused to budge from the King's arm, and when the King tried to hand him off to Senya, the bird went hysterical.”

  “What are you thinking, Taner?” Loman huffed as he kept pace with me, white clouds of breath billowing from his mouth.

  “I am thinking we need to head to the aviary.” I began to run.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?” Loman screamed and yanked the boy to his feet. The King's prized peregrine and Akan's goshawk were mangled messes of feathers and torn flesh. Senya's face was smeared with blood. One of the guards was sick.

  “Don't,” I shouted at Loman as he raised his hand to smack the boy even though I was very nearly sick myself. “He's not yours to hit.”

  Loman glared at me. “You don't know anything,” he said and then turned back to Senya. “What in the hell is wrong with you? He smacked Senya against the side of his head which sent the boy flying half way across the aviary. “Stupid fool!” The birds in their cages went wild, screaming and hissing. Senya eyes flashed like a laser and then, so help me, he was gone. There was a rustle of what sounded like wings and wind as if something flew overhead, but between the darkness and the noise of the birds, I couldn't make heads or tails out of what was happening. The guards ran forward to where Senya had been, and Loman ran to the back exit while I left from the front. There was a huge bird circling in the dark sky above us.