by Leyton, Bisi
“Crud,” she muttered as the picture focused in further. “That’s my island?” Lluc couldn’t be on Smythe, could he? Oh Mum, what did you do?
Images of ant-like people moved around the main gate of the island.
“Why are we looking at this?” Enric asked. “Is Lluc on Smythe?”
“I don’t know,” Wisteria retorted. “I told you I don’t know how this works.”
The wahr-chart hovered over a particular person as they got into a vehicle and drove away from the main gate. As the car travelled, the map moved with the car. Eventually, the car reached a house near a farm.
“Who is that?” Radala wondered.
“That is her mother,” Bach stated in irritation. “I recognize the house from when I mapped it with Felip.”
Wisteria was surprised he still recalled the layout of the Isle of Smythe.
“Make her show us my brother,” Bach said to Enric.
“Wisteria, you need to—” Enric relayed.
“If you want me to do something, ask me.” Wisteria glared at Bach.
He wouldn’t even look at her.
“Actually, the Sen-Son does not talk to Terrans,” Radala explained. “It is not really done among us. So if you want him to listen, try to speak to him a bit nicer. He likes that, even from us.”
Wisteria glowered at the taller girl as the room fell quiet for a few minutes. She reminded herself they were her only way home, so she had to be nice. She had to play along. Just pretend Bach’s not there, and in a few hours, you’ll be back in Smythe and he’ll be gone for good.
The silence was broken by the sound of Bach sliding the map back in front of her. “Enric,” was all the instruction he gave to get his friend to continue the interrogation.
She wanted to demand he ask her himself, but making him angry with her would ensure that she kept her end of his brother’s deal. Returning to the chart, she wondered why it showed the map of Smythe. Touching the image of her mother, several characters appeared on the side of the sheet. So it was a computer of some kind, or a magic looking glass. “Aren’t there instructions with this?”
“Probably, but the Room of Ages has sealed again,” Enric answered. “No one has been able to get in there since you left. The Terran—”
“No, don’t ever say that word, Enric, or anyone here, or you will all do this yourself,” she warned him, willing her voice not to break.
“Really,” Enric smirked, and looked over her head at Bach.
“Okay.” Radala let out a loud laugh. “So, what do we call you?”
“Human.”
“But, that does not mean anything.” Radala frowned.
“Call her whatever she wants, just get it done and get her out of here,” Bach ordered.
That stung, but she nodded as confidently as she could. “Wait—wait!” It clicked in Wisteria’s mind. “I touched the map and I got it to Smythe, because my family’s there.” And because she’d had that argument with her mother, so the woman was still on her mind.
“She wants me to touch it and wish for Lluc?” Bach squinted.
While she wasn’t sure if that would work, it was her only guess.
“Here you go.” Wisteria backed away from the table. “Do what you want. I’m out of here.”
Bach grimaced and picked up the paper, showing it to her. “It is still blank.”
“You need to press the symbol of the—” Wisteria saw that the symbols were gone; the sheet hung limp. Cautiously, she took the paper and the symbols reappeared. Pressing on the Red Phoenix sign, the map zoomed into the Gulf Sea and stopped over a deep sea oil rig.
According to Coles, some oil rigs were now survivor communities and they apparently supplied the pirates with the oil that they needed to trade with the other communities. She wondered why Lluc was out there. If he was even a little like Bach, he'd hate being around humans too. Despite her curiosity, she wanted to get home. “Now take me home.”
“Get her out.” Bach smiled an icy grin and finally looked at her.
“Fine,” Enric replied.
“What if he is gone when we get there?” Radala asked. “We would have to go all the way back to Smythe to get her again.”
Wisteria turned her head to glare at her. “That’s your business . . . not mine.”
“She is right,” Enric added. “He might have moved.”
“No, that wasn’t what you said!” Wisteria stormed over to Enric.
“But Radala is right,” Bach stated.
Racing after Bach as he left the room, she grabbed Bach’s shirt. “Bach, you said I could go. You don’t want me here and I don’t want to be here. So tell Enric to let me go!” Wisteria released him.
“Leave us,” Bach instructed Enric and Radala. “I need to speak to her now.”
“I—” She bit her lip nervously as the two Famila left them alone. Suddenly, she felt like she was locked in a cage with a vicious animal. “You promised.”
*****
Wisteria’s eyes darted around the room with confused anger. “Are you listening to me?”
He watched her breathe heavily, her green shirt rising and falling. She was bigger in some areas, not fatter, just more developed--a lot more developed. Pulling at her blouse with one hand, she fidgeted under his examination as she ran her other hand down her neck.
Bach knew he was in trouble as his heart rate went up. Then, he saw that all the shana was gone from her skin—a cold reminder that their relationship had vanished, because of her heartlessness. “You want to leave, so convince me,” he taunted. He felt so angry and he wanted to make her pay for his pain.
“Please—” She rushed toward him, stopping inches from his chest.
Her smell reminded him of a time when he was almost happy. He put up his hand. “No, stay where you are.” He could not have her near him. She had lost that right.
“Bach, how—?” She paused.
Shaking his head, he backed away to stop himself from continuing to take her in. “I said convince me, not talk.” He hated her. He had to.
Her head dropped. “What do you want?”
“Speak again and this conversation is over.”
She opened her mouth to object, but no words came out. Instead, she bit her lower lip and rubbed her hands down her sides as she watched him.
Frustrated, he tapped his foot on the marble floor. He crossed his arms while fighting to keep his cool, but her innocent act was driving him mad. She knew what he wanted, but was messing with him. “Terran, I am not playing games.” If she was dumb enough to come here with Enric, then she deserved to work for her lift home.
Slowly, she started to unbutton her blouse. As more and more of her skin was revealed, the less Bach could take, until he realized what she believed he wanted.
In seconds, he was standing in front of her, pulling her hands away. “What the hell is wrong with you? What do you take me for?”
“I don’t understand. Isn’t this what you want?”
“No--sing to me.” He spelled it out. Like the rest of his people, he could not make music of his own, but loved all things musical. He especially loved it when Wisteria sang.
“Oh.” Stepping back, she sang, “Mary had a little—”
“You still think this is a game?” he warned her.
“Sorry, I—”
“I told you, no talking.” He stormed past her. “We are done.”
She mumbled nervously. “Iwo ni o, Olorun o.” Her voice sounded flat and lifeless, as if she were going through the motions. When she had been his, she sung to him for hours. She wasn’t even trying.
“Why are you holding back?” He moved in, whispering to her, “Answer me.”
She was trembling. “You’re messing with me.” Seething, she turned away from him. “This is a game.”
“I have not begun to mess with you. Now sing it properly.”
With a rich silky voice, she belted out, “Colista-Bren-Navida…”
“Are you trying to drive me c
razy on purpose?” He grabbed her. “Never sing my name. Never, ever!”
“I wasn’t thinking, it was the first thing that—?”
He could not wait for her to finish. Right now he had a primal need to kiss her. Crushing his lips against her plump ones, he aggressively explored her mouth. D’cara, he missed how she smelled, how she tasted, and how her body molded against him.
She grabbed his waist, digging her short nails into his sides. “Bach . . .” she moaned quietly.
“I said, do not talk.” He cupped her face in his hands, deepening his kiss while leaning over her.
Breaking away from him, she panted. “So, I can go home now?”
Touching her was not part of his plan, nor was kissing her. His intention was to walk out and leave her groveling with Enric about the details of their arrangement, but he had lost control. The Delmar prepared him for living without her, not for seeing her again. Closing his eyes, he hoped once her image was out of his mind he would regain control. Shutting his eyes was a bad idea--all he saw was Wisteria calling to him.
Had Radala seen all of this? He scanned the room, but saw no sign of Radala or Enric. He did see Wisteria racing up the stairs to disappear into one of the rooms.
****
Stupid, stupid. Wisteria slammed the door shut and ran to the window. She was at least twenty floors above the ground, so jumping out and running off was not an option. What was she thinking? She let him kiss her and she kissed him back? Was she mad? Like an idiot, she got carried away because she’d missed him so much. Sitting on the bed, she buried her face in her hands. Is this what you came to do, Wisteria?
What if Enric had seen them kissing? He’d make sure Yordi knew what happened and Yordi would come after her mother.
Thankfully, Bach pulled away and probably went to see Radala, looking for something better. Radala, in her own way, was as striking as Alba.
Wisteria wondered if all Famila girls looked amazing. Wait—you’re not seriously getting jealous over this? This time, she punched her thigh to stop herself from thinking like this. You need to hold on and keep it together until you leave.
Lying on the bed, she rubbed her eyes. She was deflated and mad at herself for being so weak. And now, her anger toward Enric for thoughtlessly dragging her back into this mess had doubled. If he saw them, she’d have to figure out a way to fix it, but she didn’t know how. She’d nothing to offer Enric that he wanted.
Suddenly, someone dropped onto the bed beside her and started kissing her neck. Startled, she saw Bach’s head buried in the crook of her neck, massaging his lips against her skin. Each kiss set her on fire. She wanted to pull away, but his arm snaked around her waist. Powerfully, he drew her body closer while not lifting his hungry lips from her shoulder. Turning her face toward him, he found her lips and softly touched them with his own.
“Please, this is a bad idea,” she pled.
His green eyes darkened as his hands slowly released her and rested on her back. “Do you want me to leave?”
No, please don’t. Biting her lip, she couldn’t talk, but replied by softly placing her lips over his thin, hard lips. Separating them with her thumb, she kissed him with as much passion as she could muster.
“Tell me you want me to stay, or I will leave,” he whispered, jerking his head away.
What she wanted and what was going to happen were two very different things. “Please, let me go home. I—I have a boyfriend. I miss him. I love him,” she forced out.
“Who?” All the affection he seemed to have for her was gone. He rose up, moving to the door.
“It isn’t important. Enric took me from my life—my happy life,” she lied. “And I want to return.”
“Steven Hindle?” Bach did not remember the names of very many humans, but he knew who Steven was. Bach’s distrust and general loathing of Steven started years ago.
If she said the wrong thing, she might send Bach off into a rage. “It doesn’t matter. You seem very busy with Radala. She’s very nice.”
“You are right, Radala is very nice.” Opening the door, his head dropped. “I will not keep you from your life, but I am concerned about Lluc.”
“You’re actually asking me for help?”
Turning back to her, he seemed more worried than angry. “I do need your help to find my brother. If we get to Valhalla and he is not there, we need you to locate him again, on the wahr-chart, and then Enric will return you to Smythe.”
If Lluc knew we were together, it would end badly for me. There’s no way I can help you Bach. The word that came out of her mouth was . . . “Okay.”
“Thank you.” He seemed more irritated than pleased at her answer.
“And you won’t tell Enric what happened?”
“Trust me, no one will ever know about this.” He walked out and slammed the door.
*****
Bach found his way back to Radala, who was arguing with Enric about something on the rear balcony. He was not sure what he was going to tell her, but he needed to tell her something. He did not want the added complication of lying to her. Not when everything else was so murky.
“What?” Radala yelled at Enric, and then punched at him. “You are an idiot. It is not your fault. You were simply born that way.”
Enric caught her fist in his left hand. “You cannot convince me that there was a time when humans and our people were ever considered equals.”
“I never said equals, I said superior.” Radala pulled her fist free.
“You believe that?” Bach gasped, walking out onto the balcony.
“My grandmother and some of the older people heard stories like that while growing up,” she defended. “I never said I believed them.”
“She believes in Dy’obeths that snatch little children at night,” Enric laughed.
“You know what?” She lifted Enric up, tossing him over the side of the building.
“Radala.” Bach raced to the edge in time to see Enric grab onto one of the windows below and start to climb back up.
“You act like the fall was going to hurt him.” She laughed.
“No, it was just going to make him be in insufferable pain for several hours,” Bach groaned.
“Right, only you have the right to be insufferable and childish.”
“What do you mean?” He knew he needed to come clean with her.
“Before, the way you were talking to him and me?” She shook her head. “You are lucky I do not throw you over the edge.”
“Maybe you should.” He glowered.
“Afterward, I would have to hold off you and Enric. I can handle you one at a time, but together, you boys would have a tiny advantage,” she joked.
He could not laugh.
“What is it now?”
“I kissed someone.”
“Who--your stepmother? It took a month to get you to kiss me. I know you are into playing pranks.” The girl chuckled, but her face became grave when she discovered he was serious. “You are joking right?”
“No,” he frowned. “I am sorry.”
Radala raised both her eyebrows. “Who was she?”
“Does not matter. She was not important.” He had forgotten about Radala and about the months they had together the moment he saw Wisteria.
“And, it was nothing, but you will not tell me her name. Are you afraid I will hurt her? Because I will, especially if it is Carme.”
Bach was sure Carme was one of Radala’s many friends, but he did not exactly know who she was.
“Why are you telling me this now? You should have told me before I agreed to come here with Enric,” she calmly informed him.
“There is nothing I can say to ever—”
Radala punched him in the face.
Enric was right; her jabs were surprisingly painful.
“That was for kissing someone else.” She placed her hands on her hips. “But since you said it meant nothing, I will leave it for now.”
“Sorry.” He moved to hug her.
Brushing him away, she slapped him again. “I am going to kiss Enric now, so you know what this feels like and we will be even.”
“Enric would never agree to it, but I can ask him.” Somehow, the notion of Radala kissing another guy did not bother him.
“Right now, we will find Lluc. I will deal with you when we get back home.” Humorlessly, she left the balcony.
CHAPTER SIX
“Are you comfortable?” Radala asked Bach, as they sped over the sea toward his brother.
They sat on the deck of Nieves, his converger, which was a small self-navigating boat. The boat sailed faster than anything the humans had ever built. Normally, The Family avoided bringing artifacts into Terra, as the humans tended to make duplicates.
The humans nearly always failed, usually with disastrous results. A Famila had once shared a simple principle with a human, Eli Whitney, who used it to mass produce guns with standardized ammunition. What was it with humans and killing each other?
Bach felt more at home on the sleek black Nieves than anywhere else on Terra. It was more isolated from humans. The boat also generated its own piron net, which made the boat impossible for human technology to detect and difficult to remember.
“It would be better to go down below.” She winked. “It is more private.”
“There is no one else up here,” he pointed out, and then poured her a glass of mill tea. And the human was down there. There was no way he was spending any time with Wisteria.
Foolishly, he had allowed her back into his head, risking his relationship with Radala in the process, only to learn she was still with Steven Hindle. Bach crushed the glass bottle of mill tea in his fist. When they were done, he would return to Smythe and kill Steven Hindle. He was not doing it because of her. No, the boy was a disease and he needed to rid the world of him.
“What have you done to your hand?” Radala lifted it up. “You have cut yourself.”
He inspected where the glass bottle had cut him. “It does not hurt very much and it will regenerate in eight minutes.” Staring at his bloody palm, while the cool sea wind blew against him, he thought back to yesterday evening. Wisteria had tricked him into allowing her to sing his name, knowing he would react the way he did. With stakes this high, she was still toying with his emotions, and then she threw Steven Hindle in his face. That was not going to happen again; the games were over. She was here, finding Lluc, because she could make the First Pillar’s artifacts work. That was it.