by Orren Merton
And then…I sunk my full fangs into its flat head and crunched through its hard outer shell. It felt like biting into bone, but the momentum of my anger propelled my teeth until they completely bit through it into the gooey, gushy meat underneath. When my upper and bottom jaws met inside its head, I pulled my mouth off of the thing, taking a chunk of its head with me.
I spit the chunk out at its crab-like Ruhin partner cowering next to me. It screamed and ran out of the workout area in terror.
I tossed the lifeless body of the Ruhin in my hands aside.
I dropped to my knees. I could still feel pieces of shell sticking into my lips and cheeks. The texture and flavor was worse than anything I’d ever tasted in my life, like spoiled milk mixed with rotten eggs or something. I was trying to pick the pieces of shell of my mouth and practically dry-heaving.
“Yes!” Garz shouted with glee as he hurried over to me. “Perfect, Alex! Perfect!”
I held my mouth to hold the nausea back. I didn’t feel like I did anything perfect. I felt like I let rage completely take me over and I killed a living being. A being that tasted absolutely, unimaginably gross. I could feel the contents of my stomach coming up.
Zogo stuck the bucket under my head.
I grabbed it with both hands and heaved into it so violently my whole head practically sunk into the bucket. I raised my head but felt like I had to throw up more. This time Garz held my forehead out of the bucket for me. When I opened my mouth to puke, he gently pulled back any strands of flaming hair that were in my face. It was actually kinda sweet, him holding me like that while I was retching.
I heaved a couple more times; then I was done. I pushed the bucket away, hoping to escape the horrible smell. Zogo took it and ran it to the front of the workout area, then ran back with the towel and water pitcher. I leaned against the wall, exhausted. I wiped the last few tears out of my flaming eyes.
“I’m extremely proud of you, Alex,” Garz said as he sat next to me.
“I killed it,” I swallowed.
“And it’s re-forming as we speak. You can kill it again, if you like,” my brother cracked.
I turned to him with a bitchy I-am-not-amused expression.
“Alex, you hurt it, yes. But it deserved the pain. Moreover, think of it this way: all the time you’ve been here, Zaebos and the rest of us have tried to quell any gossip that you are too weak to survive. Not just for the reputation of our House. But because eventually, we knew that someone would challenge you, like this one did. The only thing that would convince those who think this way would be if you stood up for yourself.”
I nodded and reached out to Zogo for the towel.
“This Ruhin would have run to the others and told them that you broke into tears, that Lady Firebird was weak, that there is weakness in the House of Keroz. And inevitably, a Ruhin would try to give that information to another who would use it against you. Against us. Instead, the tale will be told of how you crushed one who dared scorn you. And when he re-forms, he will be mocked for his insolence.”
I finished wiping off my mouth, and handed Zogo back the towel. He poured me a glass of water, and I took it gratefully and took a few quick sips to see if I still felt nauseous. Thankfully, I didn’t.
“Does everyone in Sediin taste that foul?” I asked.
Garz chuckled. “Probably.”
I exhaled. “You didn’t set that up, did you?”
Garz grinned and shook his head. “No Ruhin would volunteer, or obey an order, to have their body killed like that. And besides, I would never deceive you, Alex. Remember, there are no lies in the House of Keroz.”
I nodded and drank the rest of the water. “And there’s no weakness in the House of Keroz, either,” I said.
Garz turned to me. “There is no weakness in Alexandra Gold, the Lady Firebird,” he said, looking into my eyes with conviction.
“Thanks,” I said, a faint smile on my face. I still didn’t feel great, but I could tell he believed it. And that meant a lot to me.
“We’re not done yet, are we?” I asked.
“We still need to train you in biting a humanoid-shaped being, with it’s eyes open, looking at you. But you know you can do it.”
I nodded. I started to rise to my feet. Garz rose faster and offered me his hand to help me up.
“Well, let’s get this show on the road,” I said.
Garz nodded and stood a foot in front of me. “Again, bite my shoulder. I want you to look into my eyes. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Okay,” I said. I reached out and put my hands on his arms to balance as I lifted my head up.
“I’m sorry, Garz,” I said softly, looking directly into his eyes as I grabbed his shoulder and bit into his upper arm.
I could feel him wince in pain, but I could also see the pride in his eyes.
24
After my trying session with Garz, I was extremely happy that my session with Dad was far more relaxed. In the spirit chamber he asked about my final lesson with Garz, and I told him everything that happened. He told me to take some time to just meditate and center myself. I didn’t know how much I needed that, until I sunk into one of the ball chairs, closed my eyes, started focusing internally—and broke into tears.
I opened my eyes, and we talked about why I cried. It wasn’t the idea of biting, it was that I didn’t see myself as a killer, even when enraged. That as much as I was proud of my abilities and excited about how much power I had, I was also frightened by how easy it was to go too far.
“That’s what it is, to have real power,” my dad said. “Power is not simply the strength to act when you want to, but also the strength to hold back. And you have both, little firebird.”
“How do I know when I’m going too far?” I asked.
“Everyone sets their own limits. I know you already have set some.”
“I won’t kill,” I said. “That’s my limit.”
“And is that conditional?” he asked. “Would you never, ever kill your opponent, no matter what the repercussions?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if the only way to save your own life, or to guarantee the survival of your loved ones or those you are trying to protect, was to kill?”
I sighed. I hadn’t really thought about that before. But my dad was right. There were conditions. As much as I couldn’t live with myself if I were a killer, I couldn’t live with myself if I had all this power and let the people I care most about die when I could have prevented it.
“No, I would then,” I declared. “I’d kill to save myself, my family, and to save my friends if I had to.”
My father tipped his head approvingly. “A very reasonable position. So with that in mind, you know when you’re going too far.”
“But what if I accidentally go to far?” I asked. “What if I don’t mean to kill someone, but it happens?”
“The more control you develop, the better you will be at preventing such accidents. But never discount the actions of your opponent. If someone engages you in combat, and despite your control, that enemy dies, remember that it was your opponent who made the choice to engage you.”
I nodded. And my father’s words gave me the idea for another limit. “And to make sure, I’m setting another limit. I won’t go in guns blazing. I’ll always let the other guy start the fight; I’ll just finish it.”
My dad tipped his head. “Another reasonable limit.”
“But the Ruhin—”
“Remember, it has existed in Sediin for a very long time. It had witnessed, and perhaps been on the receiving end, of Sedu discipline before. It knew what might happen when it chose to deride you. Be at ease about the Ruhin. He’s already back, being ridiculed by his friends for being stupid,” my father chuckled. “And he was stupid, Alex. Listen to Garz. Forgive yourself. Relax here in the spirit chamber. Be at peace.”
“Thanks Dad,” I said. I still wasn’t really comfortable with how I acted, but having my father’s guidance and suppor
t really helped. I wished I had my mom’s, too. But I was grateful that she wasn’t stuck in Sediin as nourishment for Sedu. I closed my eyes again, and this time was able to meditate without breaking down. When I opened them again some time later, I was significantly calmer.
The rest of the session was working on controlling my Sedu self. I told my dad that I could still feel that when I got upset or something, my Sedu self would rise to the surface even if I didn’t want it to. My father explained that as I became more at one with my Sedu self, I would master that as well. Dad guided me in bringing out my Sedu self and practicing returning to normal. He encouraged me to practice returning to normal as soon as I felt my Sedu self beginning to emerge.
We did this for a long time. I still wasn’t as good as I wanted to be—I could nearly instantly go full Sedu, but it still took me seconds to pull it back. But I could feel myself getting better. And thanks to my dad, I had techniques to keep improving.
With both my final sessions complete, all that was left was one last meal in Sediin, and I was ready to return to my friends—and a Seduman murderer.
25
I packed both my suitcases and looked around the room to see if there was anything I’d forgotten. All I really had were clothes, which were all packed, and my Sedu blade. I didn’t see my Sedu blade on the dresser. I tried to remember where I might have put it.
Zaebos noticed me looking for it. “Zogo was asked to collect your Sedu blade while you were with Lord Keroz,” he explained. “It shall be presented to you after your meal.”
“Oh, okay,” I said.
I picked up my suitcases.
“I’m going to miss you, my lady,” Zaebos said. His head, normally held so tall and proud, was hanging lower.
I put down the suitcases and bent down in front of him. “Aw…I’m going to miss you too, Zaebos,” I said. I scratched his neck and ran my fingers through his fur.
“You…will return occasionally?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. “This is my House, after all.”
That perked him up a bit, and the two of us walked to the dining area.
I put my suitcases down next to my chair and sat down across from my father and Garz, with Vetis sitting next to Garz. It was nice to have them in human form one more time, to sort of transition me back to my world. Dinner was simple but really tasty, spaghetti with a tangy marinara sauce, garlic bread, and a side of broccoli. They mostly talked while I ate, telling me how far I’d come, how they were proud of me, how I could do anything in my world that I wanted.
“I was so nervous when I first got here,” I admitted. “I was scared of you, of this House—of myself. But now I feel a part of you all, and I’m glad you’re in my life. And I’m proud to be part of the House of Keroz.”
“You were a wonderful student,” Garz said. “And I am proud to call you my Seduman sister.”
“I’m still not down with all the backbiting and violence in Sediin…but I think this House stands for honesty, and that can’t have been easy for you guys.”
My father beamed with pride. “I—and to speak for all the Sedu at the table—we, feel the same. I am grateful that you came into our House, and our lives. You shall always have a place here.”
“Thanks, Dad. And the food was great, too!” I grinned. “I know you guys don’t eat, but you really pulled together excellent snacks and meals for me.”
“Why not compliment the chef himself?” my dad suggested.
“Oh, sure!” I said. “I’d be happy to.”
My dad called, and the three Ruhin I’d met on the roof during my first lesson with Dad came into the dining area. My dad turned to me and raised his eyebrows.
“I wanted to tell you that you guys did a great job making food for me. It was as good as anything in my own world. Thank you.”
“Thank you, my lady!” the lead crow-headed Ruhin said. “It was our honor to assist the chef!”
I was confused. “You weren’t the chef?” I asked.
It shook its head. “We were his hands. But he was the chef,” the Ruhin said, pointing above its head and slightly to the left.
There was nothing there.
I turned to my dad, wondering what he was talking about.
“You cannot see rumam,” my dad said. “So let me see if I can make him visible for you for a moment.”
My father returned to Sedu form, then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, his eyes were glowing far brighter than normal. He waved his arm toward the area that the Ruhin had pointed to. As my dad’s arm moved across that point, I saw a shimmering outline of a hollow man, his eyes and mouth just holes, his body indistinct.
I gasped. “This…this is what a rumam looks like?”
“Rumam don’t have shape,” my father said. “I’m giving it a shape and a voice so that you may communicate with it briefly.”
A voice? I could talk to it?
“Um…hello?” I said tentatively.
“You…are the Lady Firebird?” a hollow male voice asked. The voice was intensely creepy, like a whisper made entirely of sadness.
“I am. Who are you?”
“I…I am not sure anymore,” it said. “I think I was Spencer Bennington. I was…I was a banker in New York City…yes…that’s it…”
“How did you get—” I remembered what Dad had said about guilt. “What did you do that you were ashamed of?”
“There was…the stock market crashed…people out of work…starving in the streets. President Hoover was helpless….”
“The Great Depression?” I asked.
“And I…I gambled with their money,” the voice continued as if I hadn’t said a thing. “The savings of the needy, the poor…I…I scammed them all. So many died…cold…I did…did nothing…made it worse…covered my tracks…”
“Why didn’t you help them?” I think Spencer sort of heard me.
“Help them…help them…I was afraid…for my own comfort…”
“Why did you cook for me?”
“As America starved…I threw dinner parties…I loved to cook…to devise recipes to give to the servants. Such parties…”
“Since he could cook,” my father interrupted, “I made him a bargain. If he created dishes for you, and you enjoyed them, I would release him, his debt paid in full.”
“You can do that?”
“I can. Did he fulfill his end of the bargain?” my father asked.
“Yes,” I replied. I turned to where I’d seen the shimmer a few moments ago. “Spencer, the dishes and snacks were great. The bargain is fulfilled.”
“Anima shir otak Spencer Bennington,” my father said. “I release my claim on you.”
“Thank you…my lord…” Spencer’s voice expressed a release and relief that was as warming as his voice was creepy. As his words trailed off, I could tell the voice—and Spencer—were gone.
“And for you,” Dad looked at the three Ruhin who had been Spencer’s hands, “I have created new accommodations for you on the lower level, near the center of the House. You may gather your things and move in at your pleasure.”
The Ruhin bowed so low they were practically lying down, then nearly bumped into each other as they leapt up and hurried away.
I looked at my dad and raised my eyebrows, asking for an explanation.
“The closer they are to the center of the House, the faster they heal, and the faster their spirits can gain in vastness, allowing them to form into larger Ruhin, ultimately Mazzikim. And if they are killed, they reform closer to the House.”
I nodded. “And where is Spencer—well, his rumam—now?” I asked my dad.
“In Gehenna,” he said. “Assuming his relatives and ancestors have enough affection left for him to claim him, they’ll collect him from there.”
“But it’s possible that other Sedu could grab him, right?”
My father’s mouth slowly formed a slight grin, the expression of a father about to indulge his daughter. “Zaebos, se
nd a Mazzik to find Mr. Bennington’s rumam, and guard him until his relatives find him. If none come, tell the Mazzik to guide him to the Kaayot, and explain his situation.”
Zaebos, who had been curled in a ball by my feet immediately rose. “I will, my lord.”
“Thanks, Zaebos,” I said.
He nodded his muzzle, then left.
I turned to my dad. “Kaayot?”
“They are the guardians and curators of Merkaba. They have no real form, the way we do, but their spirits are vast—far vaster than we, as tall as a tower of pure, blinding light. If it spoke, its voice would level mountains.”
“Yikes,” I swallowed. “So those are…angels?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “Just as we are not demons, they are not angels. But they do keep the rumam of those who they feel do not belong from entering Merkaba.”
“So what happens if a rumam has no guilt and won’t go with a Sedu to Sediin, but isn’t allowed into Merkaba?”
“There have been such rumam,” my father nodded. “They simply rot in Gehenna, their rumam slowly dissipating until there is nothing left.”
I nodded. “Anyway, I didn’t realize you could do that, free souls like that,” I said.
“It is almost never done,” my father said. “But if the Lady Firebird comes for dinner, I shall again.”
“Be careful,” I joked, “if I come over too often, you’ll be out of rumam.”
“Don’t let that stop you. I have enough rumam for you to dine with us whenever you’d like.”
“Thanks Dad. I’m…” I drifted off. Realizing Sedu can free souls at will made me think.
“Can any Sedu free its rumam?” I asked.
“Yes, but the Sedu must know the full name of the human being that the rumam had been. Most often, we don’t know the names of the rumam that we have.”
I nodded. “But what if—”
Zaebos returned. “It is done.”
My father nodded. “Before you return, Alex, a few things for you.” He rose from his seat. “Come. And bring your bags with you.”