Dust

by J R Devoe

  I shake my head. She doesn’t understand the forces she commands. She can’t boss an Entropath around like the other Servants. Even the Watchers and Ko Skadia have trouble scaring us into submission, so that Aeri mutt doesn’t have a prayer.

  18

  —

  DEKA

  I’LL NEVER FORGET the first time I saw the color green. Mother had taken me deep under the Grand Gallery, where leaks in the riverbed above provided enough water for her algae blooms. When she showed me the source of our colony’s oxygen, floating in thick layers across the top of plastic water basins, I failed to see through to the true beauty of this biological wonder. All I could do was marvel at its unfamiliar color.

  Mother had forbid me from showing Mali. This lab was to remain hidden away from everyone. Even father. She assured me the secret was necessary, because our leaders thought it was some invisible force that provided our breathing air. They’d see those tanks as a wasteful use of water and decommission the project. In doing so, we’d all suffocate. And after Mali’s betrayal a few days ago, I’m glad I’d managed to keep my mouth shut all those years. Even if it meant denying her a glimpse of this exotic sight.

  Since those days in the deep, I thought that’s all there was to it. Just that one shade. I’d accepted that assumption as truth until a few days ago.

  It was the color of Nya’s eyes that had locked me in her spell. I’d risked my safety by permitting her approach, just so I could have a closer look. A life underground makes you desperate for new things, so when those glittering orbs fell on me, it was like staring at jewels from a distant galaxy. There is no telling the wonders those eyes have seen. And yet, the sight of me seemed to intrigue her still.

  This was a new opportunity to show Mali this wonderful color, yet she was the first to fire a bolt at Nya’s heart.

  Since that moment, I was sure green couldn’t possibly show me any more surprises. But the forest sitting above the coast beyond my bow right now leaves me in stunned silence. The spectrum—every shade from dark to light, dull to bright—is pure majesty. No, that’s not the right word. Because there is no word.

  Mali leans far over the prow. She hasn’t spared me the slightest hint of acknowledgement since spotting the first treetops an hour ago. The storm is behind us, with only a hint of mist in the air here, and with the forest in clear view it’s enough to make her laugh with crazed joy.

  Her reaction is enough to pull my attention away from the magical forest, to within the confines of my ugly plastic boat. Just as rare as the forest before us is that sound coming from my oldest friend. I’ve seen her smile with a variety of reasons behind it—mischief, threat, sarcasm. Never joy.

  “It’s a spell!” Marlok shouts from his boat to our rear. “They lure us into their domain to make us easy targets. Turn around, Deka! Please!”

  Marlok’s desperation sends a shiver through me. So does heat from the sun breaking through the thinning clouds overhead.

  The majesty fades as fear kicks my heart into an ominous rhythm. Nya had promised seven nights of rain to keep the demons from the sky. It’s been only five. Something went wrong, and we need to find cover. I grab both oars and start rowing.

  Mali slides back and grabs my right arm to stop me. “What if Marlok is right? What if it’s a trap?”

  “Look behind you,” I say, nodding toward the western horizon. “We’ve been easy targets since we left home. If Nya meant us harm, we’d be resting on the seabed by now.”

  Mali doesn’t look convinced. She watches Marlok’s overloaded boat struggling to keep up with us.

  “You can go back with him,” I say. “Me, I’m going all the way. I’d sooner risk the unknown ahead than go back to that familiar misery.”

  Mali folds her arms and sinks low at the bow. Good. I can’t let her go, anyway. I need to get everyone off the water and into cover, and she is the only reason Marlok will lead his warriors into that forest.

  It takes longer than I’d guessed to close on the shore. As the afternoon sun beats down on me, I wish we’d kept some of that rain water we’d been so eager to toss overboard. My mouth is so dry I’d drink my own blood if it could quench my thirst. Though, this doesn’t slow my rowing. All will be well when we reach the forest. Trees require water. Lots of it, actually, in order to look as green as they do now in the orange light of the lowering sun.

  We just have to make it to the shade of that forest. Those trees that seem to stretch away from us, teasing and taunting.

  I row harder.

  Get to the forest. Get to Nya.

  • • •

  I run us aground and jump straight onto the rocky beach. There’s no time for hesitation. We’ve been in the open for too long, so I ignore Mali’s warning and race to the broken wall of trees guarding the forest border at the shoreline.

  Hissing rises from the trees and halts me. It’s as if the trees warn me to stay back. Only, as I stand on the shore before these giant sentinels, I see it is not a sound of warning or threat, but the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

  I enter their domain without further delay.

  Shade provides a welcome respite from the sun’s heat, along with the psychological comfort of cover. I collapse on the soft ground and hope I’m not alone for long.

  Lying back, I feel tiny blades of grass tickle my skin. Grass! I can’t believe it.

  Streams of sunlight break through the forest ceiling, treating my eyes to a splendor of the darkest green in the shadows, to the brightest moss that covers the trees, which stand tall like towers, rising higher into the sky than I ever thought possible.

  “Deka?”

  I sit up and see Mali standing on the beach beyond the trees. She pulls down her goggles and stares into the forest with a high level of caution.

  “Over here,” I shout with a wave of my hand.

  “Mali!” shouts Marlok. “Get away from there!”

  Mali turns back toward her brother, then darts away from him and into the forest. As she stumbles toward me, I spring to my feet and carry on deeper through the trees. Low shrubs tickle and scratch my legs as I run, causing me to jump in fright at first, then in delight.

  Trickling water lures me to a glade. Here, a pool sits at the far edge. The water is so clear I see the stones at the bottom perfectly, which makes me question if it really is water. No mud or murk at all. Ignoring my better sense, I stick my hand in and laugh at its refreshing coolness. I splash some onto my face and feel tears bulge in my eyes. Tears of relief.

  “Deka!” hisses Mali from behind.

  I turn to see her crouching beside a tree with her crossbow aimed straight up. Marlok and six warriors fall in around her. They all aim at the canopy, where winged creatures dart from tree to tree.

  “Fire!” orders Marlok.

  Seven bolts whiz upward.

  “Wait!” I shout as they reload.

  Marlok raises his bow for another shot, but I race over and slap it down.

  “Listen,” I say.

  He does, with everyone else also falling silent to the chirping above.

  “Birds,” I say.

  A few crossbows hit the ground as the alarm in my kin’s eyes softens to wonder. “Birds,” Huxley mutters absently in his fixation. He sits cross-legged and stares up at the tiny creatures flitting between branches, his mouth agape. Marlok keeps his crossbow at the ready and scouts the perimeter.

  For the most part, my warrior kin fall quickly to this glade’s charms. They watch the birds above, or feel the grass and small plants at their feet, with Mali even digging into a tree and finding insects we’d long thought extinct.

  Even the air here is sweet. I breathe deeply through my nose, inviting fresh moisture through my nostrils and down into my lungs.

  I smile. This is not the dark land of demons. This is a garden of love and care.

  When Marlok’s sweep fails to detect any danger, everyone claims a soft piece of shaded land on which to rest, for rest is well needed. Even Marlok let
s his guard down a bit. He leans against a tree with his crossbow on his lap, watching the birds warily. And if it were anyone other than my war chief, I’d swear that was a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. I can tell he’s torn. Duty compels him to return home at once, but he’s not eager to get back on the water.

  I slide into the spring and shiver in the cool water. The chill wakes all sorts of indescribable sensations in me, which piques Mali’s curiosity. She joins me in bathing in this seemingly endless water source, her teeth chattering loudly. I close my eyes and try relaxing my weary muscles. Nya will find us soon, and we must be ready to travel at once.

  We don’t last long in the cold. When we’ve had enough, we lay on the forest floor and stare at green leaves of all shapes flutter around patches of blue sky. Descriptions in stories never completely captured the beauty our ancestors destroyed.

  I’m learning very quickly that the world is full of wonders reserved for those who brave the journey into the unknown.

  We lounge like this for hours, watching streams of golden light shift across rows of mossy trees, these invading rays lowering westward with the sinking sun. It’s hard to believe creatures like those that took my parents oversee the creation of such elegance.

  By the time the sun sinks below the horizon, I’m sure I’ve seen the most beauty the human eye is capable of processing. Then I am treated to another surprise. As twilight darkens, platforms of fungus bloom from tree trunks like small balconies. Each ledge glows with a magical green light.

  When Mali leans in close to one, the glow paints her face emerald green. Even she can’t keep the wonder from her eyes.

  As I watch glowing green insects float through the air, I swear there’s nothing more on this earth that can catch my breath. Until someone says four words that make my heart flutter.

  “Your demon is here.”

  I turn to see Nya standing beside a large tree. I jump up to go meet her, though not too eagerly. My relationship with this ally of ours has already caused me much strain among my folk.

  Marlok leans on a spear at the center of the glade, watching Nya, though it’s clear he’s not expecting a fight.

  Before I reach her, she turns to lead me away. I glance back and see Marlok starting to follow, so I nod for him to remain behind.

  “I thought you’d come alone,” she says. She’s hugging herself despite the balmy air, and her shoulders are hunched with tension.

  “I tried.”

  Something is different about her. Though she avoids looking at me directly, she can’t hide the darkness in her eyes. I’ve seen this loss of innocence haunt my own people.

  “You’ve seen death,” I say.

  Nya hugs herself tighter and nods to the right. “There’s fighting to the east. It’s not safe for you there yet, so you have to stay here for a little while.”

  I survey the trees with their spiral staircases of glowing mushrooms. “I don’t think my people will protest this order.”

  Nya locks eyes with me and tilts her head as if studying my expression. Then she joins me in admiring the canopy.

  “Come,” she says. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

  She leads me to the largest tree in sight and rubs her hand over its rough skin. It’s so massive that, to hug its base, it would take three dozen members of my tribe holding hands to encircle it. Looking up, I see its point rises above all its surrounding neighbors.

  “Can you climb?” Nya says.

  My head spins at the mere thought of rising so high. To someone who has lived a life underground and never stood higher than the crest of a sand dune, this activity seems unnatural. But I don’t think she’d suggest I do something that may cause me harm.

  I climb onto the lowest branch. My hands and feet feel strange on the rough bark, and for some reason I feel the urge to apologize to the tree. Yet, to think such a grand being would be bothered by my presence seems arrogant. So I continue on, branch to branch, rising higher until I risk a glance below. This glance draws out into a gaping stare. The ground is so far away!

  I hug the tree tight. The width of my outstretched arms offers me little comfort, with my fingers curling into cracks in the bark for purchase.

  Nya flies into my peripheral. “Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ll catch you. Keep climbing. Rise.”

  I obey, and Nya is never more than an arm’s reach away. Whether she can slow my fall, I’m not sure, but that doesn’t matter. I do know she’d die trying. For me, this is enough.

  I keep my eyes on the bark before me, but I know I’ve risen above the forest canopy when a breeze hits my skin. My arms shake and burn from exertion, but I dare not loosen my grip for even half a breath. Not unless I risk being blown away by a rogue gust of wind.

  “This is high enough,” Nya says.

  The branch beside me creaks and sinks to bear her weight as she takes her place beside me. When I muster the courage to look away from the tree trunk, the danger of my height no longer concerns me. For if I died now, I would do so with eyes that have seen more wonders than any human in over one hundred years.

  To our left, a glittering black patch reveals the sea that brought us from the desert. But I dare not waste my time turning to see what that wasteland looks like from this vantage point. Every morsel of my attention belongs forward, where the green paradise stretches as far as my human eyes can see. Maybe words to describe such beauty existed in times past, but they have long since fallen from use.

  “Do you approve?” Nya asks.

  I give her a sidelong look and see a smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

  “Yes,” I say, for whatever my approval is worth.

  “This will all be yours soon.”

  My heart flutters. Though, this promise seems too good to be true. “Your people created this place. I find it hard to believe they’d just abandon it.”

  “To us, this planet is only a temporary lover.” Nya looks upward, longingly, to the pinholes of light that make up the bulging seam across the black sky. “My home is my true love,” she says wistfully. “Some of my kind wish to trap us here, on Gaia, but I’ll die before that happens. When we defeat Jexa, we’ll open the portal to our own world and finally return home.”

  “Which direction is it?”

  “It’s too far to see with your eyes.”

  I feel a deepening crease in my brow as I try to make sense of her claim.

  Seeing my confusion, she says, “We were beings of light once—sparks cast from the great fire that gave birth to the Universe. For eons we drifted wherever we wanted without a care or worry, until the Watchers found a way to imprison us in these bodies. Now they make us work for them while they enjoy the rewards.”

  I’ve heard a similar story about my own people, from a very long time ago. There was a war to free them. They’d won, but they never actually found freedom.

  “Is that why you risk fighting them?” I say. “If your body dies, will you be free again?”

  She hangs her head. “If only it were that simple. The only way to freedom is to earn it by reclaiming one hundred planets.” She extends an arm in front of me to show me the five black bands tattooed to her wrist. “Only then will they release us. But if I lose this body, I’ll have no way to prove my contribution. I will lose all the work I’ve done. The Watchers…their eyes see what ours cannot. They see the sparks of the dead, and if mine escapes this body, they’ll catch it and put it into a new body to start over.”

  This sounds like an effective punishment. I wonder if her keepers maintain their promise of returning them home after one hundred restarted planets. These Watchers don’t seem the honorable type. “So all of you who fight…if you lose, you…will you just…start over? If that’s so, you should have tried a long time ago.”

  Nya cringes and rubs her belly. “There’s a different punishment for that. Those who misbehave are sent to the Dark, forever. It’s the only real form of death, because there’s no coming back.”

&
nbsp; “The Dark?”

  “The Watchers have a portal that leads to the edge of a black hole. They force all the delinquent sparks through its gate. I saw them take a Fori once. No one ever saw her again.” Tears streak down Nya’s cheeks. She wipes them and sniffles. “But she visits me in my dreams. She screams my name, begs me to save her. When she grabs me it feels like it’s for real.”

  I’m glad there are those like Nya among her people. “You’re very brave for fighting your masters.”

  “We have no choice. If Jexa opens the gateway and patches into the network of all life-bearing planets, the Watcher army she musters will sweep across the Universe, drowning everything in darkness.”

  Cold sweat slides down my brow.

  “You are slaves fighting an army of skilled warriors,” I say. “Do you think you can win?”

  “We have the numbers,” Nya says with an optimistic nod. “Enough to reclaim control of the gate key and summon the Magister. Then you’ll get to keep your home, and maybe I’ll see mine.”

  “The Magister will reward you?”

  “He could give me his Mark. It’s a rune over the third eye that allows the bearer to navigate the portals, giving them free range without help from the Watchers or a Consul. He gives it for exemplary service, and saving your people might qualify me.”

  “So you’re helping us for a reward.”

  “I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do. But…yes, I’d do anything to see my home again. If I help you keep yours in the process, well…” she cracks a smile, “then that’s a bonus, I suppose. You deserve better than dark caves. Unless, of course, you miss them.”

  “No. Those caves are a tomb. This forest is a gift.”

  “Make sure you take care of it when we’re gone.”

  A lump swells in my throat. “Will you really leave forever?”

  “That depends on the fate of your people…if we must come back to clean up for your replacements.”

  “So I’ll not see you again.”