by Dima Zales
Cordus didn’t respond to the offer. Instead he leaned back and stretched out his legs, then studied his shoes as he tapped them slowly together.
“I begin to have an idea of what Mrs. Ryder may be.” He looked up at me. “If I am right, we are facing a rather serious situation.”
He focused again on his feet. Tap, tap, tap.
I sat there wondering if there was a way I could avoid getting sucked into his “rather serious situation.” Unfortunately, I didn’t think so.
“You read the document I gave to you.”
I nodded, though it hadn’t really been a question.
“Human species have been producing essence-workers for some millions of years — not only Homo sapiens but other members of the genus Homo, as well as several other genera. Some humanoid Seconds are, thus, comparatively old, though the reptiles would scoff if they heard any of us lay claim to that adjective.”
I nodded, amazed for about the hundredth time in the last few weeks. So there were Neanderthal Seconds. People who’d been alive for tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of years. Like us and yet different. How extraordinary.
“That said, many walk among us to whom the lives of our greatest elders would seem but moments. Some of these are old enough to have passed into legend, so that we cannot be quite sure whether they ever existed. They are, in effect, our gods.”
Gods to the gods. What a thought.
“One such legend is known as ‘Eye of the Heavens.’ This ancient being is said to be made of the sky itself. As the legend goes, in times of desperation, the sky looks down upon the creatures crawling in the mud beneath it and takes pity on their miserable lives. It shapes a piece of itself into a champion and sends him down to save and protect those in need.”
“You think Justine is this Eye of the Heavens?” I shook my head. “If the sky sent her down here to be our champion, the sky has a pretty sick sense of humor.”
Cordus frowned. I guess it wasn’t a matter for levity.
“Remember that what I have just recounted is legend,” he said. “The legend may be no more than an attempt to concretize and embody vague memories of a being that no one understands, that no one has seen in millennia. Memories, for instance, of an ability to shape-shift so fully that all trace of the original form is lost, memories of a creature whose true matter appears to be a group of sky-blue balls.”
Well I’ll be damned, I thought. The hair prickled on the back of my neck.
“Do you remember …” I replayed the event in my mind. “Right after the deer exploded into those balls, just a second later, a few more balls seemed to appear out of thin air? Each one made a little flash.”
“Yes, I do remember that.”
I sat there trying to draw my idea into words.
“Thinking in terms of the legend, it’s like the sky only needed a certain amount of itself to make a deer, but it needed more to make a person. So it reused the deer material but had to add some more, too. I mean, Justine definitely weighs more than the deer did.”
Cordus nodded. “In addition to sheer mass, she is more intelligent and has a store of existing knowledge that a deer would not have.”
I could’ve quibbled on the “more intelligent” part but let it go.
“But where did her human memories go while she was a deer? Is she really made of sky?”
“That does not seem likely, unless we think of the sky as something other than an expanse of air, clouds, and so forth.”
His face was still aimed at his tapping feet, but he was looking up at me out of the corner of his eye. I realized he was waiting for me to catch up to his conclusions. I slipped into student mode and thought about what we already knew and what we still needed to know.
“You’re thinking that there’s even more of her somewhere, right? And that part — the part that’s not in her now — it knows something. Who she is, maybe, or what she stole and where it’s hidden.”
“Exactly, Miss Ryder. Very good.”
“Then we have to find her missing parts.”
Cordus studied his feet a while before answering.
“Perhaps, but we must not move precipitously. Lord Limu presents a threat, and it is easy to assume that the enemy of one’s enemy is one’s friend. Unfortunately, that cliché rarely proves true. I would like to research further the legend of Eye of the Heavens before trying to trigger any changes in Mrs. Ryder.”
I nodded, but my mind had doglegged down a different track.
“We should also try to figure out what kind of weapon Limu was making,” I said. “Is there any way we can get more information about that?”
“You are certainly correct, Miss Ryder. That line of research must parallel my work on Eye of the Heavens, though we must again proceed with caution. And with absolute secrecy,” he added, shooting me a pointed look.
I quickly nodded, afraid he might brainwash me into silence. Frankly, I couldn’t quite see why he didn’t — he hardly knew me well enough to trust me.
Actually, I couldn’t see why he was sharing all this with me to begin with. Maybe he foresaw needing my help later. Even so, it was weird and discomfiting. Being the only Nolander Cordus took into his confidence was worse than being the only Nolander learning Baasha, by an order of magnitude.
“For the time being,” he continued, “I can tell you one thing about the weapon: it is likely a thing of great power. Lord Limu seems to have put a noticeable amount of his strength into it. He is markedly weaker than he was when we first became holders of territories in this world, and he is not one who would surrender capacity lightly.”
I thought about how easily Limu had let himself be goaded into attacking. Perhaps he’d assumed he could win. Maybe he’d always been the stronger of the two.
But wait.
“You can put your capacity into an object?” I asked. “How is that possible?”
“It is an ancient art, now lost — or so I believed. I can think of no other explanation for his comparative weakness.”
He thought for a few seconds, then shook his head.
“Whatever this weapon does, I suspect it will perform its function … what is the contemporary expression? ‘To the nth degree.’”
“And it must be really important to him.”
“I imagine so. He has made quite the sacrifice.”
“So, we have to stop him from using it, right?”
Cordus turned to look at me directly, his cold gaze meeting mine.
“That depends, Miss Ryder, on his intended target, does it not?”
17
At the end of my lesson the following morning, my day took an unexpectedly nice turn.
“You may now pay a short visit to Justine Jenson Ryder,” Cordus said. “For the remainder of the day, you will work in the stables as a reminder not to offend the likes of Ambassador Cra.”
I schooled my face, trying to look chastened. Inside, I did a cartwheel. Shoveling horse manure instead of getting hounded by Gwen and knocked down by Tezzy? He couldn’t have given me a nicer surprise if he’d shopped all day. God bless Ambassador Cra.
I made a quick stop in my room and changed into jeans, sneakers, and a sweater for my upcoming stint in the stables. Then I headed down the hall to see Justine.
“Hey, Koji,” I said as I approached. “You feeling okay?”
There was always a guard outside Justine’s door. It was never one of the white-wearers. The guards didn’t seem intended to overpower Justine, but just to guide her back to her room, should she wander too far.
This morning, it was Koji. He looked awful — ashen and sweaty.
“Hey, Beth. Touch of flu. No biggie.”
“You sure? You look like you should be in bed.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
He swallowed hard a few times.
I sighed and headed on in. What was it with guys? They always had to prove how tough they were. Ben had to be practically dying before he’d take a sick day.
&nbs
p; Justine was sitting in front of her mirror, doing her makeup. She was wearing a pretty green silk dress and heels. I felt underdressed.
“Beth! Thank goodness you’re here.”
She hurried over to me, looking around with a frightened expression.
“Am I safe here? I just don’t feel safe. I feel like I should run away. Please, can you do something?”
Oh, man.
As much as I hated her yelling at me for kidnapping, I preferred that mood to this one. Now I would have to reassure her, knowing all the while that she would be as scared when I got up to go as she was when I arrived. Maybe it was because she didn’t understand why she was scared, or maybe my reassurances made no sense. After all, there was so much I couldn’t say. Whatever the reason, my efforts to calm her never made much of a difference.
And this terrified, pathetic Justine was so not the woman I knew. Don’t get me wrong — I couldn’t stand the woman I knew. But at least she was a familiar face, a remnant of my old life. Terrified Justine was just another stranger.
The suite had a nice sitting area. We settled down on the loveseat, and I held her hand while I told her how large and well guarded Cordus’s estate was, how Cordus was the most powerful man anywhere nearby, how we were working hard to try and make her even safer.
I really wanted to mention Limu and Eye of the Heavens to see if she reacted, but I obediently stifled the impulse. By some miracle, Cordus hadn’t touched me yet. I was going to do everything possible to keep it that way.
I heard the door open.
“What’s up, Koji?” I said, turning.
“Beth?”
It wasn’t Koji. It was Graham, looking surprised.
“Graham … what are you doing here?”
“The door was unguarded. I was concerned.”
“Oh. Koji did look sick. I bet he had to take a bathroom break.”
Instead of leaving, Graham stood there, awkwardly passing a tennis-ball-sized rock from hand to hand and staring at Justine. He was wearing leather gloves. A bad feeling started to come over me.
“Graham, I think you need to leave. Graham.”
His eyes jerked over to me.
“Stay out of this, Beth.”
He rushed Justine.
I jumped up with a shout. There was a loud sound, and the floor heaved under me. With a shriek, Justine disappeared downwards, and a second later, I fell too. I landed in mud and threw my arms over my eyes, scrabbling to keep my face clear as soil and debris poured over me. I couldn’t see Justine anywhere, but Graham was above me, teetering on the edge of the vast hole I was in. Arms wind-milling, he lost his grip on the stone ball. It sailed across the pit, bounced off the top of the fallen coffee table, and plummeted down at my face. I threw a hand out to block it, and it hit my palm.
I took a breath before I realized I was under water. Fluid flooded into my lungs, heavy and burning. I thrashed, found the bottom with my knees, and tried to thrust myself up. My head broke the surface, went under again, emerged again. I floundered and managed to stand, choking and panicked. Water poured out of my mouth and nose. Leaning over, I coughed and coughed as my lungs emptied themselves.
Finally I straightened up and tried to wipe the water and tears from my eyes.
I was standing in seawater up to my midriff.
What the hell?
I could see rocks sticking out of the water only a little ways off, so I started swimming that way. After just a few body lengths, the water became too shallow to swim, so I waded until I could drag myself up onto the rocks.
My brain just shut down for a while, and I lay there, panting.
Finally I sat up and looked around. I was at the edge of a rocky shoreline. It stretched a long way before the land started to rise and a dense forest took over. I was in a sort of cove. Towering headlands rose to either side, blocking my view. I looked out to sea. Nothing but water as far as the horizon.
It was raining steadily.
Had Graham’s rock brought me here, wherever “here” was? Yes, it must’ve. Touching it was the last thing that had happened.
Was Justine here too? She’d fallen into the hole before me, and I thought she’d been buried. I hadn’t been able to see her, at any rate. So she couldn’t have touched the rock, right?
God, I hoped she hadn’t suffocated under all that dirt. The thought made me sick.
Unsteadily, I stood up. I pried my phone out of my dripping jeans. It was dead. I didn’t know all that much about cell phones, but it was hard to imagine it recovering.
I began picking my way toward the trees. The rocks were studded with tide pools, which were full of anemones, starfish, snails, and small fish. Here and there, an octopus scooted into a crevice and changed colors to match its hiding place.
Eventually the pools grew more shallow and then petered out. The narrow beach beyond the pools was a mixture of gray sand and rocks. Just past the beach, a wall of huge trees rose. It looked almost impenetrable.
Where was I?
Shock gave way to anger.
Graham. I’d gone out of my way to be nice to him. I’d felt sorry for him. I’d invented excuses for him. And all the while, he’d been plotting to send Justine to this place. Why?
I looked around, half-expecting Limu to show up and roast me alive, but I was alone.
After a while, I took my clothes off and wrung them out as best I could, then put them back on. After I’d done that, I sat down on the sand with my back against a rock and waited for someone to come get me.
It took me too long to admit that no one was coming.
I huddled on the beach, getting rained on, for the rest of that day and the whole night. By the middle of the night, I was so cold I had to get up and jog in place.
As the wee hours of the morning ticked by, my anger at Graham was replaced by fear. Fear became terror. Then I succumbed to despair. Finally, having run through all my emotions, I went numb.
Near dawn, the demands of my cold, thirsty body forced themselves front and center. The numbness receded, replaced by pragmatism. Clearly, I couldn’t stay where I was. I needed water, I needed shelter, and I needed help. In comparison, my emotional life didn’t matter.
I’d already seen that walking along the beach would be impossible. The cove lay between two rocky promontories, and I sure wasn’t going to try climbing one of them. It would have to be the forest. Hopefully, I’d find a road quickly.
At first light, I gathered some dead wood and made an arrow pointing toward the trees. They’d probably send a tracker after me. If they didn’t, at least there’d be some sign I’d been here. Then I headed in.
The forest was like nothing I’d seen before. Huge pine trees shot straight up to a canopy far above. All the branches below the canopy were needleless and coated in hanging moss. The trees grew very close together, so that the dead, mossy branches intertwined. Many of the trunks hosted brightly colored lichens. The ground was covered in moss and dense ferns. There were insects everywhere. Some were startlingly large. Several times, a massive dragonfly hovered in front of me, as though checking me out. Lizards, snails, and frogs were also abundant.
Almost immediately, I found rainwater that had collected in a pocket between two roots. I kept moving uphill and was rewarded with more fresh water. In fact, there were pools and rivulets everywhere. Check one necessity off the list.
The pools tended to be covered with tiny floating green plants, so it was easy to mistake them for dry ground. I found a long stick and began probing in front of me as I went. Progress was slow. There wasn’t much underbrush besides ferns, but neither were there paths. Huge fallen trees in various states of decay littered the forest floor. Thank god I was wearing sneakers.
After an hour, I hadn’t found anything I thought I could eat, but at least I was a bit warmer. I sat down against a tree trunk and took off my shoes, which were saturated. I propped them against the tree, soles up. It wasn’t like they’d dry off in the rain, but maybe they’d get a little
less wet. After some thought, I took off all my clothes and rinsed them with fresh water, then cleaned the salt off my skin and out of my hair as best I could. I put my wet clothes back on and settled down to rest.
I must’ve drifted off, sitting there. I awoke with the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. I opened my eyes and looked around. There was no sign of any living thing bigger than a slug. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
When I finally saw the creature, I froze. It was on a tree trunk right across from me. It was about the size of a dinner plate and was perfectly camouflaged with the colors and pattern of the tree’s bark. After some looking, I found its eye, which had a large, oblong pupil. Once I had that, the rest of the animal began to make sense. It was an octopus, of all things. I could see its tentacles coiled around it, adhering to the tree bark. It was definitely watching me.
I looked around and saw several more of the things. Once I’d gotten the sense of how they were camouflaged, I could pick them out by looking for protuberances on trunks. I twisted around to make sure there wasn’t one on the tree I was sitting against. It looked clear. Then I just sat there, not sure what to do.
I’d assumed I’d been sent some place on earth when I touched Graham’s stone. Somewhere in Limu’s territory — Oregon, maybe. But these creatures weren’t like anything I’d heard of.
Could I have been sent to the S-Em?
If so, maybe these octopuses were more than octopuses.
I got up and stood there uncertainly. Then I nodded at each of the creatures I could see.
“Um … hello there. I don’t know if you can understand me, but I don’t mean you any harm.”
Not surprisingly, no one responded.
“Okay then. I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I need to find food and help, so I’m going to keep moving.”
I started walking again, still heading uphill. All along the way, I kept seeing octopuses. I nodded politely at each one I saw, though I felt sort of stupid doing it.