Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  “If you want to kill me, there are easier ways to achieve your goal,” I said, refusing to let my voice waver.

  “Are there?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “That was easy enough.”

  “It won’t be so easy again,” I warned.

  “It isn’t wise to toy with your father’s bride,” the general said. I realized that he was a general now that I saw the segmented silver chain that led from a cuff on his hand to a cuff on Catane’s. I’d heard legends of the san’lelion of Canderabai. They were always defeated generals that the High Tazmin’s army had captured in battle. He gifted them to his children, binding them by a silver chain and demanding that they teach wisdom until their charge was fully trained. I peered at the general curiously and he glared back at me. “Look all you want, pretty asp. I’m a site for a wonder-show, aren’t I?”

  I licked my lips, irritated that I’d shown my curiosity and the general smirked. He could read what I meant, even in that tiny expression. I’d have to keep a close eye on him.

  “I’m not toying with her,” Catane said. “I’m testing her.”

  “And did she pass? I only ask because these old bones want their bed and you’re keeping me from it.”

  “She passed,” Catane said, and his eyes searched mine like he was looking for gold in a creek.

  “And where am I supposed to sleep now that you’ve destroyed my tent?” I asked.

  “That’s the second test.”

  For the first time, he smiled.

  I practiced my magic the next day while we rode. I was not going to be caught off-guard at night this time, and I also wasn’t willing to give up my disciplined training. Drusica said that with effort and determination, I could be the most powerful of my generation. It wasn’t like I was missing anything practicing during the journey. None of Catane’s people spoke to me. There were about twenty soldiers and five servants and they all kept a wide berth.

  “Your exercises are progressing well, but you’re forgetting your mother’s instructions,” Drusica told me as I finished my drills.

  “I have forgotten nothing.”

  “She told you to practice your dancing. You’ll be expected to dance for the High Tazmin on your wedding night.”

  “And do you expect me to practice that on the back of Rantoom?”

  “You promised her you’d practice.”

  Drusica’s ghostly form fluttered in an out of my vision, but her disapproving expression remained unchanged. I blew out a gust of breath. What would it feel like to be a common person without magic, and without a demanding ancestor like a second conscience in their mind?

  When we pitched camp, I tethered Rantoom and snuck off around the edge of a hill. It was far too dark and cold to dance without a fire, and I had no tent anymore for privacy. I should set Catane’s tent on fire to see how he liked it. I should, but I wouldn’t. I refused to sabotage my own future.

  I gathered dried out wood for a fire and set a blaze, shaking out my waist-length black hair and stretching my limbs. Everyone else would be too busy to follow me here. I closed my eyes, hearing the sounds of the drums and the snap-flute in my mind, and then I began to let the rhythm move my feet in the shuffling steps and rolling hip movements of the lasharanta. It was the dance of seduction, the dance that painted the night with tantalizing movements and scintillating hands. My mother had taught it to me, as her mother had taught it to her and I would dance it on my wedding night. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as cold as it was here in the Canderabai wilderness. Who would have thought a barren desert would be so cold once the sun sank over the edge of the world?

  I danced it through and then prepared for a second dance, opening my eyes to check the fire. Did it need fuel? A flicker of movement caught my eye and I startled. On the other side of the fire, leaning against a man-high boulder, Catane stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching me with a look in his eye both hungry and desolate. I pulled the scarf of my sarette around me, not that it would cover me. The sarette was not designed to hide, but to highlight the figure.

  Our eyes met, and my lips parted. I felt like I’d been caught stealing bananas from the kitchens. My heart was racing, my cheeks grew warm as I was caught in his golden, piercing gaze. I couldn’t tell if he approved of or despised me. I felt, suddenly, that it mattered. I wanted to see approval in those hard eyes. He took a step forward, his hands creeping just a little bit forward, as if he were thinking of touching me, and then a gravelly voice broke the spell.

  I hadn’t even seen the general until he spoke. He was sitting, back against the boulder and hat drawn over his eyes. I wouldn’t have thought he could even see us like that.

  “Are you just about done here? I don’t know why you bother watching. You’ll only torment yourself. Even if you could bring yourself to steal your father’s viper of a bride, you’d still be chained to me.” He shook the chain. “And it’s hard to show a woman you appreciate her when you’re chained to another man.”

  If my cheeks had heated before, they must be fiery now. I kept my gaze level and cool, but the spell was broken.

  “As you say, old man,” Catane said, waiting for the general to stand before disappearing into the night. His mild tone had sounded almost affectionate.

  I tried to avoid Catane’s gaze as we traveled the next day. I could feel it following me as I rode Rantoom. I didn’t even enter the meditation world to practice my magic. Every time I closed my eyes I could see his expression – hungry but desolate. What kind of man lived behind those eyes?

  We were two days journey from Al’Karida. I’d heard tales of the fantastic city, with its woven gold bridges that crisscrossed between ivory towers. I hoped we’d stop there so I could catch a glimpse of how the women were wearing their sarettes. There were no other women on the journey, and I didn’t want to make a fashion mistake when I met the High Tazmin.

  Our elephants walked in single file, and mine was second from the end, with a lone guard trailing me. One long dusty mile blended into the next until noonday. I looked around, hoping we’d come to a creek or hill to stop for a mid-day break, when suddenly the world began to rumble. Rantoom trumpeted in fear, swaying and bucking. I yelled at him to be still, but the earth opened up in front of us and he tripped, stumbling forward. I threw myself backwards, flipping and rolling as I fell.

  Rantoom disappeared into the cavernous gash in the still-shaking earth. I fell from him just in time, falling into a cleft on the rock and clutching at the earth with all my strength. The ground heaved and bucked, making me unable to turn my head to see what – or who – else had fallen into the crevice. Screams and crashes filled the air, and then as quickly as it began, the shaking ended and all was still. I moaned. My ribs ached, I could see nothing but the earthen wall beside me, and no matter how I struggled I couldn’t turn around. How deep was the crevice? I heard a final liquid thump, and then nothing. It must be deep.

  There was a scuffling sound above me, and a voice.

  “Can you see any survivors? Anyone?”

  “There! She’s there.” That was the general.

  “Hurry, we can get there if we skirt around the edge.”

  Everything was quiet again, and then there were sounds above me and something slapped across my shoulder.

  “Grab hold of the rope and I’ll pull you up!” Catane’s voice called to me.

  I struggled to breathe. My ribs hurt. I flinched from the pain, twisting around to catch the rope. The rope pulled upwards, but my hips were wedged. I yelped as the rope slipped through my hands.

  “She’s stuck,” the general said. “See if you can loosen her. No! Wait until she has the rope again! I can’t believe this happened again. It’s like it is connected to you somehow.”

  “These earthquakes? Connected to me? You’re crazy,” Catane said, and then yelled down to me. “Grab the rope, Amandera.”

  It hit me on the shoulder again and I caught it, wondering how it could be any different this time.


  “Hold on tight. Tighter!” I gripped the rope with white knuckles.

  The rocks holding my hips in place let go as if they had been ripped away by a giant hand. They fell, knocking and crashing against the ravine walls, as I was left dangling by my white knuckled grip. If only my magic had a solution for this! But ways to prevent falling into sudden ravines had never been on our list of studies. Poor Rantoom. I hope he died quickly.

  Catane hauled me up quickly, reaching over the lip of the ravine as soon as he could to grab my shaking arms and pull me to safety. On the other side of the ravine, four elephants and the remaining guards stood huddled together.

  “Just like the rumors from Wexler and Gervaine,” I gasped. The news from abroad was rife with news of rips in the earth and shaking. I hadn’t believed it. No one had.

  “See, I told you. Everyone else can see that these events are following you.”

  Catane’s golden eyes studied me, as if he was looking for any tiny change in my appearance.

  “They aren’t following me,” he muttered, but his eyes never left mine.

  His expression was … soft? As if it was made of wax and a fire burned behind it.

  “Don’t do it,” the general said.

  I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t stop thinking that it could have been me at the bottom of that ravine, and at the same time I couldn’t stop staring at those golden eyes burning into mine, the look of concern etched on the hard planes of his face.

  He leaned in swiftly, his hands caressing my face as he took hold of it, and he kissed me, long and deep as if he was drinking me in after days in the desert heat. I kissed him back, returning his passion, caress for caress, taste for taste. I wanted his strength beside me forever. I wanted to find out where those golden tattoos came from … and where they led.

  “Stop. Seriously, stop.” The general was easy to ignore.

  I rode the rest of the day on Catane’s elephant with his arm resting companionably around my waist. I ached for those we left behind and I ached that I had to keep riding towards Azaradi and a waiting husband. I did not go back to the meditation world. I didn’t want to hear what Drusica would say.

  That night, as I lay in borrowed blankets beside the campfire I heard the general and Catane fighting. Their words were indiscernible, but there was no doubt in my mind what they were arguing about. I knew I should hope that the general could talk sense into Catane, but I didn’t. Oh, I didn’t.

  I was assigned a different elephant to ride the next day, seated behind two of the guards. My thighs chafed in the unfamiliar saddle, and a sense of loss filled me. My eyes kept drifting to Catane, and every time I glanced in his direction, I could see his eyes following me, but then the general would motion his attention elsewhere.

  As dusk fell, the lights of Al’Karida glowed on the horizon. They were only a day away. I prepared my blankets beside the fire, doing my part to collect firewood for our small campfire while the soldiers made a stew of dried meats and some roots they’d gathered. How many nights did I have left where I would be free to gather wood? Soon enough I’d be a pampered prisoner, a plaything of a great emperor. I felt hollow inside every time I thought of it.

  We ate, and went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I was cold and hungry, despite the stew, and the stars seemed to stretch too far where they painted the sky a milky hue. I watched the double moons of Na and Shareesh. I needed to stretch my legs. They were stiff after days of riding. I stood up, wrapping one of the blankets around my shoulders and strode out across the wilderness. I should be practicing my magic, but I didn’t want to see Drusica. She would know. She always knew anything I tried to hide from her. I would see her again after I got married. That would be soon enough.

  Eventually, my legs grew tired and I snuck back into camp. The guard on watch nodded to me, but everyone else slept. Or at least, I thought they did.

  “Amandera,” even whispering, I could tell it was Catane.

  I crept towards where he sat. Beside him, the general snored loudly.

  “Whisper, so he doesn’t wake,” he said, motioning me to sit down beside him. He wore no shirt, despite the cold. Was that a new tattoo on the right side of his chest?

  “It’s you,” he said.

  “What is?”

  “The tattoo. The one you are staring at. I got it to symbolize you.”

  “But it’s a snake. That’s not very flattering.”

  He nodded at the general. “He calls you the ‘asp.’ Says if I let you close your poison will fill me. I’ve tucked you in as close as I can get you. Right next to my heart.”

  That was surprisingly romantic. I sat down.

  “How do you get golden tattoos? I’ve never seen that before, only black ones.”

  I didn’t have tattoos, although I knew they were common in Canderabai.

  “They’re filled with the Common – the source of our magic. I get them in the meditation world. My ancestor thinks it’s crazy, but I think it’s important for people to know as soon as they meet you that you are powerful.” He looked away for a moment. “Then they might not be as quick to destroy you.”

  He locked gazes with me, and it felt like he was wrestling with something. “Don’t get married. Leave here with me and we won’t ever come back.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. Part of me had been waiting for this, or at least hoping for it.

  “Tonight?” I asked.

  “Not tonight. We need to make plans. I can’t just hit the general over the head and run, and he… well,” Catane ran a hand over his face. “He doesn’t approve. You probably don’t know this, but I can’t just take this bracelet off. It has to be taken off by the priests. I can’t cut it off or we’ll both die, or at least that’s what they tell me. Listen to me, I’m rambling! No one makes me nervous. No one.” He paused. “Just think about it, alright? When we arrive in Al’Karida tomorrow, there will be a ceremony and they’ll remove the tether between the general and I. It’s a big day and he gets to go free. That night … if you’ll have me … if you’ll agree-”

  I kissed him, cutting off his words. He didn’t realize what he was offering me. Freedom. Hope. Passion. Didn’t those things equal love when it came right down to it? I wanted to show him, with all my passion, that my answer was yes and he seemed just as enthusiastic. A stutter in the general’s snoring startled us apart.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered, as I gave the little snake tattoo on his chest one last kiss.

  I couldn’t help staring over the edge of the path as we wound our way up to the top of the Cliffs of Canderabai. Al’Karida was like a heartstone, glowing and pulsing with life. We hadn’t had time to stop in the city. What would it be like within those ivory walls? I rode on the elephant behind Catane’s. I watched Catane carefully as he swayed, his shoulders tight and his seat on the elephant unyielding. Was he worried about what he promised me? A tiny ceremony on top of a cliff didn’t seem important enough to be worried.

  We crested the hill and a crowd of people spread out before us. My eyes widened. Such a crowd! There were Canderabaian priests at the far end of the group and soldiers of Canderabai everywhere, with their odd little flags affixed to the back plates of their armor and waving over their heads. I remembered from my lessons that they denoted which Tazmin or Tazminera employed them. To one side, a group of women in colorful sarettes were eyeing Catane up and down. I felt suddenly shabby in my worn, dusty sarette. If only my luggage hadn’t fallen in the ravine, I could match them in their glory. At least I could still match their pride. I held my head high.

  Catane glanced back just once at me, his face expressionless. We just had to get through the ceremony and all would be well. If only it didn’t seem so much more daunting now that I was here.

  We reached the first set of priests, and the guard behind me broke the protocol to whisper to me. “We stand to the side now. This is for the Son of the Stars.”

  I nodded and followed him. At least we had good seats. I felt
nervous, for some reason. That wasn’t like me.

  “Who comes before us on this auspicious day?” one priest asked.

  “Catane Nyota, son of the stars,” Catane said.

  “Where is the general the High Tazmin gave you as a gift?” the priest asked.

  Catane gestured to the general. “My san’lelion stands with me. Complete is his training in wisdom and humility.”

  “We shall judge that,” the priest said, and then four of them walked forward, shepherding Catane and the general into a ring of their brothers, all dressed in the long blue robes that denoted their station.

  I tugged on the soldier’s shirt arm. “What are they doing now?”

  “They ask the san’lelion – that’s the general - for his confession. He must explain what he has taught his dar’lelion – that’s Catane – and where he has failed.”

  I stared at their backs as if I could see what was going on beyond the ring of bodies. Of course, I couldn’t. I shuffled from foot to foot, nervously. Something didn’t feel right.

  Around me, hushed mutters and shuffling feet echoed my own. The confession seemed to take a long time. At one point, the soldier passed me a water skin and I drank.

  “What happens if they don’t like what he says,” I asked.

  “At the end of the ceremony, Catane will either be confirmed as heir to the High Tazmin or thrown off the cliffs,” he gestured to the cliffs before us. “If they throw him off the cliff, the general will go with him.”

  I shuddered and squinted harder at those blue backs.

  After what felt like hours, and perhaps it was, the ring of priest’s opened up and Catane was ushered forward.

  “People of Canderabai, hail your named heir!” the priest called out. I barely caught my breath. “And if the words that were spoken today prove to be false, both they and their children will pay for their lies.”

  Even from so far away, I could see the general go pale. He lifted a hand.

  “He has two daughters,” the priest whispered. “Captives of the High Tazmin to ensure his obedience.”