by J B Cantwell
And so we said goodbye to Yunta. A place I was sure none of us would desire to visit ever again.
Grallero.
We tumbled into the thick, wet grass, the vibrant smell of sweet nectar invading our nostrils in an instant. The sun was dappled as it came through the trees and rested against the green. Occasionally, a shadow would cross overhead.
This place must be full of birds, I thought.
And yet I heard none. At first I didn’t hear the sounds at all. My ears ringed, I thought, from the power of our jump. Grallero must have been very far from Yunta for the jump to affect me this way.
But no. The sound I heard was not a ringing. We all sat up and stared around, fear gradually falling across every face in our party as the threat that sound meant registered. Instinctively, we edged closer together, huddling in a group.
“What is that?” I asked, still unable to put my finger on what it was.
Nobody answered me.
I listened more, my skin prickling with a panic I couldn’t explain. The sound meant danger, I was sure of it. And yet it was a sound I knew for sure that I had never heard before this moment. It was deep, baritone. It reminded me of the sound of a small airplane buzzing through the sky.
At that thought I shot straight up to my feet.
Airplanes weren’t the only things that buzzed when they flew.
“Bees,” I breathed, staring around.
Suddenly, the shadows I had seen crossing overhead had meaning.
Those hadn’t been birds. But if those shadows did belong to the bees, that would mean they would have to be enormous.
The group rose up one by one. Whimpers of terror escaped Tristan and Donnally. Kiron set his jaw.
“They won’t hurt us if we don’t bother them,” he said firmly.
“How do you know?” Tristan asked, breathless.
“I’ve been a farmer nearly all of my life,” Kiron said. “I know bees.”
My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was finding it difficult to breathe. I had been stung by a bee only once in my life. I was near the growing towers in the city back on Earth, and one of them must have escaped its moist, controlled home within those glass walls. It buzzed around me, but, never having spent much time outdoors in our ruined world, I didn’t think to try to shy away from it. I had never seen one before, only read about them in books. It landed on my hand, and I was delighted. I cupped my other hand over it, intending to take it home to show Mom the treasure I had found out on the street.
That was when it stung me.
Pain like I had never experienced radiated up from the back of my hand, pulsing and burning as the venom of the sting made its way into my bloodstream. I yelped, throwing the now dying bee away from me and cradling my hand to my chest.
A single bee sting was harmless, Mom had told me once I got home. She tended to my stung hand, removing the stinger and slathering the skin with a balm that took the burning away. But I would never forget the pain I had felt on that day. It was amazing that such a small and insignificant injury had resulted in the dread I now felt. And Kiron’s assurances that they wouldn’t hurt us did little to calm my fears.
“But listen to that other sound,” Kiron went on. He cocked his head like a dog hearing a high pitched noise. “That sound we must follow.”
My memory of my own singular experience with bees was still floating in my head, and my panic quieted just long enough for me to hear the other sounds this place played for us. And then, cocking my head in a similar way that Kiron had, I heard it. Our salvation.
Water.
I locked eyes with him, and we both nodded.
When weighing the threat of bees against our desperate need for water, there was no contest. Everyone in the company was parched, lips cracked, tongues dry.
“Let’s go,” I said, beginning the march towards the sound. “It’s not far.”
Kiron smirked, turning to follow me.
And the rest of them did, too. Despite just having been frozen in place by their own fear, one by one they, too, were able to hear the trickling sound of a stream nearby.
It only took us minutes to reach it, and when we finally did, every one of us lay our bellies flat to the ground and plunged our heads into the icy water, drinking deeply. When I finally had my fill, I rolled onto my back, stomach sloshing.
Far above our heads, well over the tops of the trees, those buzzing shadows persisted. But they did not come to us, did not attack. I shuddered as I wondered how big a bee must be to cast a shadow so large.
We rested at the stream for an hour, splitting a small meal of dried fruit. Compared to what the villagers ate in the Hidden Mountains, this was a feast, and I realized how difficult it must have been to make the decision to take even these few pieces away from the starving people. Cait wandered around the outskirts of the group and came back to us, her arms filled with flowers that smelled like heaven. She rested the bunch of them on the ground and then picked one up and held it to her lips, tilting it back. Syrupy liquid trickled down the petal and into her mouth. She smacked her lips, a huge smile on her face.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“She’s sure,” Larissa said.
The two were growing more inseparable with every hour that passed. It seemed that since Cait had lost her voice their bond had grown even tighter. If anything, their communication seemed easier now than it had been before.
Larissa picked up one of the bowl-sized flowers and drank deeply. Kiron grabbed for the next.
“This is honey nectar,” he said. “I’ve had it before. Here.”
He picked up two of the huge flowers and handed one to Father and one to me. Then he tipped his own back and joined Larissa, who was licking her lips appreciatively.
I gave a furtive glance up to the treetops again. The word “honey” had reminded me of the bees far above. As I tipped back my own flower, I hoped that honey was just a word used to describe the sweet liquid, and that we wouldn’t later be punished for taking some prize of the bees’ creation.
My worries were soon forgotten as the nectar touched my tongue. Sickly sweet, like liquid candy, it filled my mouth and rolled down my throat. When I had swallowed the contents of the flower, I saw that Larissa and Cait had now pulled the petals off of their flowers and were licking the remains of the nectar greedily. I tore off a piece and meant to do the same, but the nectar had made me hungry for more, and instead of licking mine I took a huge bite out of the petal.
Instantly, every tastebud in my mouth was assaulted by a bitterness so disgusting that I nearly wretched. Kiron laughed.
“Probably should’ve told you…don’t eat the flowers,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, irritated, spitting out the petal. I tried licking one of the other petals instead, and was relieved to find that the sweetness was so intense that it easily did away with the lingering bitterness.
Father came to sit by me, still drinking from his flower cup, smiling widely.
“I never would have thought such things existed anywhere,” he said, his face full of wonder. “And yet, I know I must have tasted this before.”
“How could you have?” I asked. “You’ve never been here before.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. He raised his eyes and looked around, taking in the trees, the stream, the flowers. “That’s the strange thing,” he went on. “I feel like I have been here before.”
I stared at him, unsure of what to make of this comment. Then, when no answer came, I went back to licking my petal.
I didn’t understand Father. His odd demeanor struck a chord with me that seemed off key somehow. And yet I couldn’t deny his friendliness, his eagerness to help. The whole thing was unsettling.
I licked the last of my petals and tossed them into the grass.
Since arriving in the Maylin Fold, I had witnessed so many things that were beyond unusual that I had lost count of the number of times I, myself, had worn that sa
me look of wonder that was on Father’s face now.
“It’s a wondrous place,” he said, sitting back, relaxing into the grass.
We were beside a large grove of trees. And though we were mostly shaded from the sun, the grass grew thick and green beneath us. The light made the edges of the trees, the tips of the water, the petals of the flowers, nearly twinkle in its glow.
“So you’ve seen places like this before?” I asked, uneasy.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But something about this place is so familiar. The day I came to this body was the day I came into existence, as far as I know” He paused, thoughtful. “Sometimes I remember things, though. Things that feel like they happened long, long ago. The thoughts seem out of place, like someone else’s memories.”
“But whose memories could they be?” I asked.
Father shrugged.
“Is he in there with you?” I asked, my face reddening. “My dad?”
I was leading a quest to level the Fold, marching us from planet to planet in search of the hidden places where the gold had been pilfered by Jared. I felt like a fool for asking about my dad, wondering if he was somehow conscious now that his eyes shared Father’s.
“Just a piece of him,” Father said. “But I wonder … I think that more might be coming.”
“When?” I asked.
I was eager for a chance to talk to the man behind the madness. And nervous that if he did come, there would be no change. My hand moved reflexively up to my throat.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But something is changing.”
He licked the last of his petals and then held it out before him, studying it. It was as large as his head. Then, dropping it, he stared out across the stream.
“He seems less violent now,” he went on. “But only just.”
I gulped, trying to swallow down the hope that I had allowed to balloon in my chest.
Kiron wandered over to us.
“I think we should rest here for a bit,” he said. “The last nights have been hard on everyone.”
I was starting to feel a little sleepy. I wondered if it was a result of the nectar. My mind was growing hazier by the minute. I didn’t argue.
Soon, all of us reclined in the grass. Even Cait rested her head against Larissa’s chest, comforted by the warmth and peace of this place.
But, as I fell into a dreamless sleep, the buzzing overhead did not abate.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I woke several hours later to find Kiron sitting across from me, looking like he’d been watching me sleep for hours.
“I’m glad you’re up,” he said. “I think we should take this opportunity to shave down the rest of the gold. I don’t want to be caught again somewhere dangerous and then not be able to do it at the last minute.”
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. As the day had passed, the air had grown cooler, though not cold. Everything about this place brought a sense of ease and comfort. Twenty feet away, Larissa and Cait walked hand in hand, exploring the carpeted forest floor.
I got to work. By the Book of Leveling’s count, I still had nineteen spheres to make. As I molded the gold over the pages of the book, Kiron sat beside me, his disk clearing up the shavings as a magnet would draw lead. When he had a sizable pile of gold, he took out the vial of dust and added it to the mix. Then he raised the disk close to his eyes and stared hard into its center. The filings of gold began to melt and bubble around the edges of the disk, gradually falling toward the center and rolling around until they had joined the other discarded pieces. Soon, he had a thick piece of molten gold settling on the disk. He carefully put it down into the dirt.
“It has to cool,” he said, not taking his eyes off it. His face was satisfied as he stared down at his work. Then, when he looked up, his eyes widened in surprise.
“Be careful!” he said.
I hadn’t noticed it, but as I had been watching him melt the gold, I had completely forgotten about what I was doing. Before me, the ball of gold spun off center, a big chunk being taken out of one side while the other remained round. I tried to regain control of the sphere, but it was too late. I let the gold drop to the book below.
Kiron snorted, handing out the solid chunk he had just made.
“Start again,” he said, and he got to work on fixing the mess I had just made.
We worked like that, side by side, for a couple of hours. Finally, as the sun began to set, just visible through the trees, our work was done. We had created all sixteen of the spheres we would need to complete the leveling. At least, according to the book. I was relieved to see we still had several small pieces leftover. They would be enough to create our links along the way. And who knew what other situations we might need more gold for.
As I dropped the stash of gold into my pack, the symbol etched into the leather caught my eye. Outlined in gold, it was the symbol I had believed was Almara’s, the same one that was carved onto the cover of the Book of Leveling, and into the earth on Yunta, I sat for a time, wondering how this marking had come to be. I had always thought it represented Almara and his quest, the first quest, to level the Fold. But now I realized that this marking came from somewhere else. I didn’t know for certain whether Almara had ever been to Yunta. He had traveled extensively, but he had never mentioned the planet. And it seemed very out of character for him to leave guide posts along the way to each pedestal’s location. But if not Almara, who?
Everyone was up now, and nobody seemed tired. As I stood up, I was amazed that I felt no stiffness from having been hunched in the same position for so long. In fact, I felt eager to get moving.
“I think we should head out,” I said.
“What if there are more?” Donnally asked. “I don’t want to get stuck out there.” His eyes glanced nervously around the darkening glade.
Donnally was starting to get on my nerves. Why had he come along on this journey if he was so terrified to set foot anywhere but on Aeso?
“We can’t control what creatures roam these lands,” Kiron said. “But I think we can bet that they won’t be the same ones we have already come across.”
“What about the bees?” he countered. “They could attack.”
“Bees don’t attack at night, you fool,” Larissa said. “Besides, Cait and I have been to the edge of the forest today and seen them at their work. They are well on their way home by now.”
“We have to go sometime,” Kiron said, putting the Book into his pack. “We can’t just stay here and wait for danger to pass. We don’t even know what dangers there are. It is time. Now.”
Donnally sighed heavily, but he hoisted his own pack over his shoulders, defeated.
We walked the entire night through. Though I wasn’t tired, the walk seemed long to me, and I remembered, like Yunta, this planet probably spun at a different rate than what we were used to. Yunta had had daylight for just a few hours, perhaps Grallero was different.
Despite our relative safety under the cover of darkness, I hoped that the sun would rise soon. It made me nervous to be traveling in the black of night, unable to see around the thick trees that surrounded us.
Cait never faltered. Whenever we stopped to rest, she was always the first one back to her feet, mutely pointing the way forward. After our third break I caught up with her.
“How far do you think it is?” I asked as we trudged through the undergrowth.
She shrugged, then held up her hands about a foot apart.
“Is that long?” I asked.
She shrugged again.
“How long was it on Yunta?” I asked, trying to get a gauge of how much an arm’s length meant in her silent language.
She pushed her hands very close together until her palms faced each other, just an inch apart.
I sighed.
I wasn’t under the delusion that our leveling the Fold should be a quick affair. I understood that it was going to take us time to make it from place to place. But what if every planet had long journeys like Grallero seem
ed to? Could our quest take not weeks or months, but even years?
The sun finally rose, and we rested toward the edge of the trees to take in its light. The night hadn’t been cold, but it had felt lonely despite my many traveling companions walking beside me. Something about the light of day lifted my spirits, and I found that the length of our journey felt less impossible than it had just moments before.
With the rising of the sun came the buzzing high above our heads. I shuddered, telling myself that if I just ignored it, maybe they would leave me alone. It wasn’t until I saw Larissa step out from beneath the trees that I realized how close the bees were.
I shrank back against the trunk of the tree I was sitting beside as I saw them, circling, descending. They weren’t just big, as the snapping insects of Yunta had been. These were enormous. Bees the size of elephants flitted through the air, gusts of wind coming off their wings as they swooped down into the valley. As they made their way, unmistakably, toward Larissa. I opened my mouth, wanting to shout a warning, but my throat was dry with fear.
“Lissa, you idiot!” Kiron barked. “Get out of there!”
“Shut up, dear brother!” she called back, her voice practically a song.
A wide smile was spread across her face and she waved her arms dreamily through the air. The bees, as if called by her dance, descended. One in particular made it very close to her, and her swaying arms stopped as she lifted her palms up into the air. The bee hovered above her head, slowly, gently, lowering its body toward her until it placed two of its legs in her hands.
Larissa giggled at the touch, and I thought she might be trying to hold back a squeal of delight.
Let it end. Let it end. Let it go away now.
I knew I wasn’t the only one thinking such thoughts. Every face was transfixed on Larissa, every mouth hanging open in horror and amazement. Even Cait stood with her eyes open wide, unwilling to move an inch in any direction.
The impossibly huge, dangerous flying beast seemed to be almost caressing Larissa. And the moment it began to flutter its wings faster, the two of them took to the air together.