Djerr raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t die.”
Confused for a moment, Tarana continued treading water while she tried to remember what he was referring to. “Ohhhh,” she finally remembered, “I did say that, didn’t I? Back in Ralinos, when we were being kept in that awful dungeon.” She made a face at the memory. “Well I don’t know. It seemed possible at the time. I know, you think it’s stupid, but it’s not like I’m doing anything reckless or trying to get myself killed.”
He shrugged. “Well, whatever. We’d better get you out of here before you really do freeze to death.” Emerging from the stream, Djerr led her to sunny patch of ground where a tree had fallen. Stripping off his wet shirt, he hung it on one of the branches that stuck straight up from the log. Using the mossy branches as steps, she climbed up on top of the log and settled down, using one twisted branch to rest her back. Djerr gave her a crooked grin. “You know you’d dry out a lot faster if you took your clothes off and let them dry on their own.”
Crossing her arms, Tarana fixed him with a look. “Djerr, no.”
“Aw, why not?” He climbed up beside her and gave her a playful nudge. “I’m just trying to help, you know!”
“Would you cut it out,” Tarana snarled suddenly. “I said no. Now drop it.” She looked away, jaw clenched.
Djerr slipped off the log and landed lightly on his feet. “Sorry,” he said softly and wandered off to retrieve their shoes. When he returned, she had closed her eyes and was lying back on the log, so he waited nearby, wringing out his hair and pulling his shirt back on, which hung limply on his body. They didn’t speak until much later, when Tarana rose, squinting her eyes at the bright sunlight and shaking out her hair. Djerr stood up from where he had been sitting. “Ready to go?” he asked simply.
She looked at him without answering, her forehead slightly creased. “I’m sorry for bringing you into all this,” she said worriedly.
Taken aback, he cocked his head. “What do you mean? You never brought me anywhere. I came of my own free will.”
She sighed and slid off the log. “That’s what I worry about,” she said, still looking troubled. “I worry that you came for the wrong reasons and you’re going to regret it later.”
Djerr waved his hand, brushing away her comments. “Stop worrying so much, Tara. Let’s just go take a look around town and check out those new houses.” As she opened her mouth, he shook his head and interjected before she could say anything. “No, just stop. We can talk later, alright?”
She was unusually quiet for the rest of the day as they explored the city. To Djerr’s delight, it was market day and the streets were full of strange foods they had never seen or smelled before. After asking a few vendors if they had any damaged food to give away, he managed to claim a couple pieces of a bright red fruit that spurted with juice as he bit into it. He gave the other to Tarana, who brushed off the dirt and took a large bite. It had a much sharper taste than any fruit they had tried before and the tangy taste prickled their tongues and forced them to eat slowly.
As they followed the large market-road through the city, they occasionally stopped to look at tiny trinkets of carved wood or large stands of dried herbs whose smell overwhelmed them and made their eyes water. The stands gradually became farther apart until they reached the edge of town where the houses were being built. The farther they walked, the less complete each house looked. They were very small and clearly hastily built, but sturdy all the same.
People swarmed around them, hammering, shouting to each other, and scampering up and down ladders propped up on each house. They stood watching for awhile, until a huge man with wiry black hair and dark skin stomped up to them. “Buying or building?” he asked shortly. He wore a small rectangular metal tag on his jacket, which Tarana quickly glanced at. It seemed to identify him as one of the city officials. She and Djerr glanced at each other, then looked back at him.
“Both, maybe?” Djerr ventured.
He gave a short nod, and beckoned over another man. “Two more for you. They’re little. Give ‘em something hard, toughen ‘em up.” He stomped away, already calling out orders to others.
The other man slouched over, favoring his left leg. He looked doubtfully at the two and heaved a heavy sigh. “Alright, well, we are in need of a couple more down this way,” he led them slowly down the road, away from town. “My name’s Will.”
Djerr started to open his mouth, but Will glanced over and waved his hand. “No, I don’t care what your names are. I don’t care if you come to work each day. If you do, you come find me. Ask around, someone will know where I am. You check in with me at the beginning of the day and you check in with me at the end of the day to get paid. That’s it. You don’t need to talk to me otherwise. The others on the job will show you what you need to do. You have a place to stay?”
They nodded and Djerr interjected, “But we would like to buy one of the houses eventually.”
Will sighed again. “Alright, then you need to be put on the waiting list.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over, along with a pen. “Write down your names and I’ll go get them on the list. It’s posted at the beginning of the housing project area, back down that way.” He jabbed his thumb back toward town. “Check the names every day and if you have enough money when your name comes up, find a city official and they’ll get you to your house.”
“How long does it take to get to the top of the list?” Tarana questioned.
Will shrugged, looking disinterested. “Depends. I don’t know. Probably a month or two. There are a lot of names.” He stopped and ushered them toward one of the houses in the beginning stages. “Well, go get to work. If you don’t hold your weight, I’ll hear about it.” With that, he turned away and limped back down the road.
Giving each other a look of great trepidation, Djerr and Tarana approached the house and were immediately set to work by one of the women, holding up boards as they were nailed into place. Their hands were quickly filled with splinters and small cuts, but the work continued unabated.
They were allowed a small break as the sun peaked overhead, but as they hadn’t brought any food, they simply laid on the ground and tried to catch their breath before the woman yelled at them to get back up and get to work. By the end of the day, they were sore, bleeding, and hungry, but also had a pocketful of money.
The next day, they checked for their names and the following days after that. With a free floor to sleep on and a free meal every night, they gradually saved up money to move out on their own. As the days grew warmer and longer, Tarana continued her lessons every night and occasionally snuck down to the stream late in the evening to practice forming little spheres of water from a distance or making the surface of the water light up and throw dancing reflections of light on the trees.
One night, she reclined on the rocky banks, a small branch dangling above her head. A small budding flower hung off the branch, which bounced slowly up and down as the breeze nudged it. Reaching up, she touched it lightly, automatically pressing at it with her magic, trying to see how it was built. Studying its structure, she absentmindedly moved her other hand, forming a duplicate structure.
It was a procedure she had practiced dozens of times, although never on something so complicated. Glancing up, she noticed the moon had crossed half of the sky, but she had only completed a small portion of one petal. As she touched it, a small bead of water leaked out and it crinkled further and broke apart. Disappointed, she dropped it into the stream, where it spread as dust on the surface. That night, she brought up the experience with Rupert.
“Ah,” he murmured, “the test every young wizard attempts at least once. Sometimes many times. Try as you might, you will never inject life into anything you create. Whether it is something that was once living and died, or something you conjured up yourself, you do not have the power to create life.”
Tarana shook her head, confused. “But why not?” she asked. “What happens
when you try?”
Rupert gestured broadly. “Well, usually just the same as you described. It withers and turns to dust. Sometimes, if you are especially good at balancing all the molecules required to sustain life, you will be left with a complete, yet lifeless being. Sometimes it’s somewhere in between. But no wizard ever has succeeded in creating life. It is far too difficult of a balance to maintain long enough to get the organism going and too complicated to attempt. You have no idea all the chemical and physical processes occurring in a living being and you’d be better off turning your attention elsewhere.”
She sighed. “Alright, where should I be turning my attention then?”
Studying her silently for several moments, he crossed his arms. “You know where I want you to turn your attention. It’s time for you to lead the Wizard’s Army. You’re growing strong enough to prove yourself to them and fight off any attacks by the Citizens’ Army.”
“I am so sick of hearing you talk about the armies.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “If you want to teach me more about magic, that’s great, but I’m not going back to lead any army. That’s not what I want to do with my life and my powers, alright?”
Rupert continued studying her, bony arms crossed in front of his chest. “You recall your old hometown, correct?”
“Kain?” she asked, confused. “Of course I remember Kain, it was attacked by the Wizard’s Army way back.”
“No, not Kain. Your actual hometown. Delobo.”
She blinked. “Well yeah, I remember Delobo. I haven’t been there in ages, though. Last time I saw it, I was with the Citizens’ and the whole town was totally empty. It was kind of creepy.”
“Exactly.” Rupert nodded. “Totally empty. Do you know why that was?”
“Well no,” she paused, growing even more confused. “Nobody knew where everyone had gone. It was like it was just abandoned. Maybe they got attacked by the griffins too?”
He shook his head, his expression impossible to read. “There was no sign of destruction, Tarana. What else would cause everyone to disappear?”
“Well maybe there was something wrong with the town and they all moved away. I don’t know. Why are you asking me this?”
He sighed. “You see, the truth is, they all succumbed to a terrible disease shortly after you left. It started with the babies and the oldest, frailest people, but gradually everyone became ill. Oh at first, they tried sequestering the ill in their homes to halt the spread of the disease, but it was too late. Everyone had already become infected and it was only a matter of time before the symptoms started to show.
“It was a quick death and while they began by burying the dead, they quickly became overwhelmed and had to hold mass ceremonies, where the weak, near death ones had to quickly burn the deceased. The last few tried to escape the area, hoping that maybe it was the water or the air or the food. However, it was hopeless and they were soon dead as well, lost in the forest to be eaten by the animals. No one survived and the town was completely abandoned until you and your fellow soldiers passed through.”
Tarana, who had been staring wide-eyed at Rupert, jumped up suddenly. “I’m not infected, am I?” she exclaimed, alarmed.
“No, of course not.” He sighed, impatiently. “The virus died out as the last citizens of Delobo died. Because, as you know, a dead host results in a dead virus. It is only through the process of infection that a virus strain can proliferate.”
“Well that’s still horrible,” she said, biting her lip. “Even if they were so mean to me, I didn’t want them all to die. Especially like that, they didn’t deserve that.”
Rupert sighed again. “Tarana, you are not seeing the big picture. What happened to those people was a necessary step. The town of Delobo was remote, but not totally unconnected with the rest of the world. Others would have wandered to other towns, or seen you when you returned.
“They would have spread the word of who you were, what you could do, before you were ready for such news to be widespread. You needed much time to yourself, to develop as a wizard and a person. You couldn’t have done so if everyone was already out looking for you, wanting to either kill you or raise you as their leader. Your relative privacy was the key to your success.”
She was staring at him, trying to understand what he was telling her. Her stomach turned over as she finally spoke. “But wait, are you saying that it was intentional? That the entire town of Delobo died so I could have…a little privacy?”
“It was unfortunately necessary,” he said slowly, watching her reaction carefully. “For your safety, especially. You have to admit that is true.”
Her eyes widened as he confirmed her fear. “No, it wasn’t necessary, not at all!” she shouted. “That’s stupid. Nobody should have to die because they knew something by accident. It could have been fine, I would have been fine, they shouldn’t have died because of me! I don’t understand. Nobody can cause people to get sick. It was probably just a coincidence.”
Rupert walked over to her, setting his hands firmly on her shoulders, so that she sank down and sat on the ground. “You are getting far too worked up,” he said calmly. “It was necessary, trust me. You are the only hope this world has and I can’t allow anything to jeopardize that. People die every day in the war fought essentially over you. The town of Delobo was not a large casualty.”
Her mind fighting between horror and rage, she stared up at him, incredulous. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she murmured. “You caused them to all get sick. But you just told me it’s impossible to create life, so you couldn’t have done it.”
“A virus,” Rupert said carefully, “is not alive. We have gone over this. It is a simple tool, only able to replicate inside a host. The virus is simple, yet effective. It is possible, with great amounts of experience and practice, to create one.” She shoved his hands off her shoulders, so he kneeled down in front of her. “I wanted only to protect you, Tarana. Your life is more significant, more important than any other at the moment. You have the power to stop the war, stop all the death occurring every day. The death of Delobo was a small price to pay in order to give you that opportunity. You need to seize that opportunity now and head back to Ralinos where the Wizard’s Army waits for you. Do it now, before any more unfortunate casualties occur.”
Throwing her body backward, trying to get away from him, Tarana found herself suddenly released from the rocky cavern and wide-awake on the floor of Isaac’s house, breathing heavily. Curling into a ball, she tried to calm her shaking, but realized there was no way she would get back to sleep that night.
Quietly crawling out from beneath the blankets, she crept to the door and with a long glance back at Djerr, she slipped out into the night to sit cradled in one of the trees by the stream. Away from everyone else, she thought about how to stop the deaths. As the sun rose, brushing warmth into the cold air, she still had no answer.
Chapter 14
The following day, Djerr and Tarana’s names were posted on the housing list. They found they had just enough to buy one of the smallest, newly-built houses. Skipping work that day to go through the process of claiming and paying for the house, they finally found themselves standing in the doorway, looking awkwardly at the empty house.
They had nothing to move in, except a few blankets and some food Isaac and Becky had given them as a gift. Their voices echoed off the bare wooden walls and hammering could be heard as other houses were erected all around them. Sunlight spilled through the windows, lighting up the dust that slowly sifted through the rooms, leftover from the building process.
Finally inside, Djerr was exuberant, exploring every inch and growing more excited with every new detail he noticed. Tired from the lack of sleep from the previous night, Tarana quietly sat down against one of the walls, leaning her head back and resting her eyes. She felt unsettled and unable to relax after the busy day.
She kept thinking back to what Rupert had said and was uneasily reminded of the Wizard’s Army’s techniques to forc
e her to use her magic. She thought about the fearsome griffins, wondering if he was behind that as well and fearing what would happen if he was. For the first time since she met him, she feared what he was capable of. Seemingly powerless and stuck in the cavern, she had always assumed his only power was to watch over her and guide her during her sleep. Now she felt stupid for never questioning her assumptions and trusting him blindly.
She felt herself being scooped up suddenly in Djerr’s arms, her thoughts interrupted. He was hugging her tightly and she tiredly returned the hug, feeling irritated. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing her reluctance.
She shrugged. “I guess I’m just tired.”
He studied her for a moment before deciding to accept her excuse. He continued watching her, slightly worried as she remained unusually quiet all evening. That night, as they lay sprawled out on a thick blanket spread over the wood floor, she found herself unable to sleep again. Her eyelids heavy but her mind racing, she finally rolled over closer to him and nudged his shoulder with her head. “Djerr?”
“Mm?”
“What do you think happens when we die?”
He rolled over and she could barely see his eyes glimmer out of the darkness. “I think it's kind of like falling asleep,” he said finally.
Tarana yawned. “You mean, like we keep dreaming and stuff?”
“Not exactly.” Djerr shook his head. “I mean it's kind of like the act of falling asleep. Like, imagine that there is a person who just appears one day without ever having lived a day before. There are all these people around him who have always been people and they show him how to play, eat, drink, and just enjoy life. He has a great day learning to be a person, but at the end of the day, he notices all his new friends disappearing.
“They're going to their own rooms to sleep, but they forget to tell him about sleeping. He notices himself growing lethargic and confused, but he keeps fighting the feeling, until he is the only one left awake. He's terrified, alone, and can barely keep his eyes open. Eventually, he lies down on the floor and he feels himself slipping away, to a place out of his control.
The Girl Born of Smoke Page 24