by C. K. Rieke
Lilaci stood at the center of the wall while the others had spread out to search for a way up. Still, time passed, and no sign—no word—of a way up. Lilaci continued her spells of fire, and she had to admit it to herself, that not only was it good in killing off the imps, but it was excellent practice in growing her powers again.
She sensed then footsteps creeping toward her from her right side, and she caught Fewn’s smell before she leaned toward her ear. “We found something,” Fewn said. “I’ll get the others.”
Fewn went off further down the line to Lilaci’s left to gather Gogenanth and Ezmerelda to call them to join the others. Once she returned with them to Lilaci, they all walked together. After a long stretch along the wall, they met up with Burr, who joined them to find Roren.
After what seemed like more than one hundred imps had been burned alive by Lilaci, they finally found Roren. Lilaci placed her hand on the wall but felt nothing abnormal. Roren put his hand on her wrist and guided her hand further over, toward him. Her fingers slid along the wall, and it’s even surface, until her fingertips wrapped around the cliff as it broke inward. The cliff on the inside felt different from the canyon’s wall, and as she moved his fingers up, they curled around and gripped a hard layer of rock.
It’s the same as the way we came down. Something has made not only a way to climb down into this canyon, but they’ve created a way up. Thank you. Thank you so very much.
“After you,” Roren said.
“No,” Lilaci whispered. “Lead the way to Kera. I’ll follow.”
Chapter Thirty
A dark-skinned hand clasped the desert floor from the chasm. The hot rays of sun warmed the back of the hand that had been crawling up the sharp-edged ridges in the cool shade. It eagerly grasped at the sandy ground, and its fingertips clutched onto a bump in the ground, pulling. Roren’s blue appeared over the edge of the canyon, his face covered in dirt and muck from deep down in the gorge.
With a grunt, he heaved himself onto the flat surface of the desert and rolled onto his back—heaving big breaths with his chest rising and falling slowly. He turned flat on his stomach and outstretched one of his arms, reaching back down into the darkness. Lilaci smiled as she threw her hand into his, and he lifted her up.
She was surprised to find Roren’s arms wrapped around her. Lilaci was overjoyed to find herself out of the canyon, and let her arms embrace him back.
“We made it,” he said, still hugging her. “Thanks to you.”
She pulled her arms back and gently pushed him away. “We made it because of Gogenanth. My powers weren’t—still aren’t strong enough to have killed so many without the swarm overtaking us “But—thanks to you for leading the way.”
Roren forced the smile with eyes that seemed saddened to Lilaci.
Lilaci looked back down into the gorge to see Fewn still quite far down, as she continued the climb up.
“Roren, what’s the matter?” she asked. “You should be happy, we may still have time to find her.”
He crossed his arms, and he looked away. “I am happy, he said. There’s nothing wrong.”
“Come now.” She touched his arm just above the elbow. “We’ve come far together now, I can tell something is bothering you. Ever since Gogenanth returned, you’ve been . . . distant.”
“Gogenanth.” He sighed. “I just . . . I only . . . How do I say this?” His eyes turned serious. “He came for you, he came to kill Veranor. He didn’t come for Kera, he didn’t even know of her being until he found us. I trust him, I do. He’s powerful and already proven to be quite capable, but he doesn’t love Kera like I do, like you do.”
“Give him time,” she said. “He’s not met her yet.”
“Lilaci.” He put his hand on hers. “We love Kera. We love her more than any other. You and I . . . we have a bond there, a great bond I feel won’t easily be broken. Do you feel it? When this is all said and done, when we are free to be at peace, do you think it possible you, Kera, and I will be able to live a happy life together? As a family?” His blue eyes stared into hers, ravished for an answer.
“Are you . . . Roren . . . Are you asking me to be your . . .?”
They heard the clap of a hand on the desert behind them. “Don’t worry about me,” they heard Fewn’s voice say. “I’ve got it, I can get up on my own.”
The fire in Roren’s eyes diminished as Lilaci took her hand back. “We can talk about this later.” She turned back to grab Fewn by the hand and pull her up back into the sunlight.
Fewn stood up and arched her back, reaching high up into the air. “Ah, that feels nice. There is nothing quite like leaving the shade to be warmed again by the bright sun. And, we can go back out after Kera! Aren’t you elated, Roren?”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Elated.” Why isn’t he more excited? We made it across!
Lilaci looked back down the cliff, cascaded with sharp edges in the similar ax-shaped cut in the canyon’s other side. Ezmerelda was climbing quickly up, followed by Gogenanth; Burr was still out of sight down in the dark shade.
“Back to walking then?” Fewn asked. “Without the Ioxi and wagon we are back where we started.”
“Not entirely,” Lilaci said. “We’ve made it across. Don’t forget your own frustrations from being trapped on the high cliffs on the other side back there. We are blessed to be here.”
“Yes, true,” she said. “We still don’t know who made it, so we could make it across?”
Lilaci looked to Roren, who shook his head. “No,” she said, brushing her loose black hair back, and wrapping it into a bun. As she placed the wooden picks through it to hold her hair still, she eyed the wild sun above and the desert before them. She placed her tan hood up over her eyes. Ezmerelda reached the top of the climb and Fewn helped her up by taking her by the hand and elbow. “Ah,” she said in relief, “finally . . .”
Fewn went and helped Gogenanth, by taking his hand. “A little help here?” she asked any of the others standing around. Lilaci moved to help, but Roren was quickly over and helped the big man up the side of the cliff. “Well done, friend.”
Gogenanth nodded and stretched out his aching hands. Lilaci saw him do this and looked down to her own hands. As she moved her fingers and knuckles, she hadn’t noticed until that point, but her joints ached, and the wrinkles on the back of her hands seemed to be growing longer, and more plentiful. She clasped her left knuckles with her right, rubbing them.
“You know, you’re only the second person with magic I’ve met,” Fewn said. “Except those Reevins, but they don’t count. Their magic is more of an evil weapon. When I think of magic, I think of the magic my parents told me stories about, magics that helped people.”
“What about Kera’s magic?” Roren asked.
“Yeah, I suppose,” she said. “But when I think magic, I think about colorful wispies and things like that.”
“She did raise a dragon,” Lilaci snickered.
“But no wispies.” Gogenanth laughed.
Ezmerelda, while laughing, went and helped pull Burr up out of the canyon. As soon as he was at the top of the gorge, he fell on his back and breathed in relief. “That . . . that was quite the climb. I certainly hope we don’t need to travel back west any day soon.”
“Well,” Lilaci said, looking out to the east, “now we’re all here safely across, shall we?”
Roren and Fewn went to Lilaci’s sides and they began to walk.
Burr sighed. “No break for the weary . . .” He rolled to his side, placed his hood over his head, and got up to his feet. He leaned back and up to the sky, stretching, as Ezmerelda and Gogenanth went walking out west, both placing their own hoods over their heads to block out the sunlight, both of their cloaks blowing behind them, under their full packs. He went up to Gogenanth’s side. “How many others are there like you in Essill?” he asked.
“None, that I know of,” he replied.
“Wait,” Ezmerelda said, “do you mean ones that share his appearance, or t
hat possess the magic of the Azulūz?”
“How many carry that magic?”
“Oh,” Gogenanth said. “It used to be many, but now it is few. Not all shared my same abilities, we each carried varying powers. There was one even, a friend of mine, that was able to wield power that would shake the lands.”
“Was able to?” Burr asked.
“Yes, his name was Zaan,” he said.
“How much further do we have to go?” Ezmerelda asked, loud enough for the three walking in front of them to hear. Burr wanted to ask more about their days in Essill, but they’d have plenty more time to talk of the past.
“The Xertans are not close,” Lilaci said. “Many hundreds of miles separate us from the great mountains, where we will find ourselves in the Divine Triangle—the area surrounded by the three Great Oasi, where we may find ourselves with the remaining gods in each of the three cities. We may have crossed the canyon created by Dânoz, but our next journey has only just begun to find Kera. Herradax was leading us to the Xertans, and that is where Kera wished for us to go, so that is our best bet as to where she went. She’s got a couple of days lead time on us, and my guess is, knowing Veranor, that he carried her much of the time, not out of sympathy, but out of impatience, and possibly fear of lingering in one place too long. He said it would take us forty days by foot to reach the mountains, before he brought the caravan back with him. So, say we leave a week’s worth of days back there behind us, that leaves us with thirty-three days left to reach them.”
“Thirty-three?” Fewn asked. “Over a month in Barra? That’s a long time, the gods’ spies will surely find us before we can get there. They’ll have Scaethers spread out far and wide, looking for Kera—and Veranor. We sort of . . . stick out, with three Lu-Polini traitors, and three others with us.”
“We’ve got to find Kera first,” Roren said, “before then.”
“Yes,” Burr added. “If we’re quick, we may be able to catch up with them within the next week, or two.”
Roren shook his head. “No, that’s too long.”
“Agreed,” Lilaci said. “But what’s our other option?”
“I don’t know,” Roren said. “But we’ve got plenty of time to think about that on the long walk ahead.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Leaving the sun, moon, and stars behind, the cave became as dark and bleak as the darkest starless night. Slender, young fingers guided her way down the descending path. Each footstep was preceded by a quick tap of the tip of her small boot, to search for solid footing. She hoped her eyes would adjust to the dark, but only the creatures of the dark would be able to see in a place so devoid of light.
“You alright?” Veranor asked in front of her, his voice was quiet, but still caused a slight echo in the tunnel.
“Uh huh,” she whispered.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” he asked.
“I’m afraid of some things,” she said. “But the dark isn’t one of them. Roren used to tell me the things that lived in caves in the sands were usually dangerous, but if you left them alone, they’d leave you alone.”
“That is a terribly simplified explanation for cave-dwelling animals.”
“It’s true though, right?” she asked.
“I suppose,” he said. “But you’re leaving out all the needs, and emotions of creatures. Life is not as simple as saying a life is wholly based around the emotion of fear. There is hope, hunger, an urge to breed, the need to protect kin; there are many reasons to defend one’s own body from harm.” He was silent for another long moment. “You know, Kera, if we were brought together under different circumstances, and time wasn’t an hourglass unable to be flipped back over for us now, I believe I could’ve been a great mentor for you. There’s so much knowledge to share about these lands. The Arr has a rich history, albeit violent in nature. With your abilities, we could’ve changed these lands, without the need for war.”
“When you say, ‘brought together under different circumstances,’ do you mean your Scaethers would have found me, tortured and killed my family, and brought me to your Sorock?”
He sighed. “Again, another over-simplification. What I imagined when I said that, was us coming together in another reality. For instance, say the gods were benevolent, and we were free to move as we wished, or say we were born without our individual physical characteristics.”
“You mean if we weren’t born as Lu-Polini, and we had the normal dark skin,” she said with a sigh.
“Yes, that . . . But even if you were brought to me in these days, and yes, my Scaethers found you and brought you to me, and if I was able to persuade the gods that you would make an asset for them, even more powerful than Lilaci. I believe we could’ve changed things together. You could have been my greatest pupil, and you would have grown strong—incredibly powerful.”
“Would I have had a choice? If I’d been brought to you in Sorock? Lilaci didn’t. You wiped her memory and forced her to train.”
“Lilaci was different,” he said. “I don’t want to defend the old ways of the Scaethers. Lilaci was not the only one forced into service. I had no other option than to obey the gods. You’re young, Kera, but you can’t afford to be naive, not this late in the journey. Those who don’t obey the gods end up the same. Every day, heretics die. Whether it be by the blade of an assassin like Lilaci, or by the cruel death Gorlen would wreak on a body and mind through poison.”
“There are those who walk the sands who don’t obey the gods,” Kera said. “I’m proof of that. It is possible, it’s the only life I’ve ever known in fact. Who is the naive one now?”
Veranor went silent again, the quiet sound of their muddled footsteps and fingers drifting along the rock wall the only audible sound. “You are a clever girl, we could have made a splendid team I believe. And I might add, that being out on the sands like this, free, is something I never thought I’d be able to enjoy. I always imagined that if I did leave Sorock, the only two paths forward would be by being one of the elite and acquiring a name for myself—or death.”
“For someone I’ve heard stories about ever since I was very young,” she said, “you’re not at all like I pictured.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, scratching the stubble on his chin.
“Well, physically, sure,” she said calmly, and with a spiteful tone. “But I always heard the elders say that you were the true embodiment of evil. You were a soulless, black-eyed weapon of the gods. Blind in your bloodlust. You were a cold-hearted murderer and you enjoyed nothing more than the pain of others. But now I see what you really, truly are—”
“And what is that?” Kera caught a subtle tone of disdain in his voice.
“You’re lost,” she said. “You’re like a thistle in the wind. You were caught under a mighty rock for a time, but Lilaci went and moved that rock so that you were able to return to the wind. You blow where the wind takes you. You’re a victim, a victim of fate and chance.”
She could sense him turning around to face her, and she could feel and smell his hot breath as he spoke to her, his face directly in front of hers. “Kera, I warn you. Do not call me a victim. I am here by choice. I chose to help you. And to clarify. The tales you heard of me, they were all correct. I enjoyed killing, I still do.”
“You never enjoyed children being ripped from their mother’s arms before they were tortured and killed. You’re not a monster. You were a puppet on strings.” She lifted her hand and put it on the commander’s strong jaw, she could feel him flinch, but he didn’t pull away. “I’m going to help you. I think you’re wrong about me too, you’re not here to be my mentor, maybe I’m here to be yours.”
He didn’t answer but backed away from her slowly in the darkness. It was a long, silent pause. Then after a few moments, he turned and began traveling back down the cave path, without a word.
After what felt like longer than a couple of hours walking further and further down the black tunnel, Veranor stopped and turned to Kera. “A fork.�
�
Blind still from the absence of light, they both stopped, and took their watersacks out and drank.
“Can you sense which direction to take?” he asked.
She walked in front of him and faced down each tunnel, one to the left and the other to the right. She sensed no difference between the two. Standing there still, and without making any sound, they both felt the same to her. There was no wind, no difference in smell, or no sound.
“I—I’m not sure,” she said. “They feel the same to me.”
“Have you a guess?” he asked.
“No, if I did, it wouldn’t be anything more than a simple guess. And I don’t want us to go down the wrong one. Who knows how far down each goes.”
They both went silent for many moments.
“Well,” he finally said. “Let’s think of this; Herradax hatched from an egg next to the healing fountain in the last cave. We don’t have any reason to think this cave will be similar. What was in that cave that might be in this that would help us to find which way we are to take?”
“The fountain,” she said. “The sound of rippling water, but I don’t hear anything like water in either.”
“Nor do I.”
“The egg,” she said, “it had a certain smell to it.”
“Earthy, yet like a newborn baby still covered in birthing fluids,” he said. “But I sense no difference in smell either, do you?”
“No,” she said. “The heartbeat, though . . .”
“I don’t hear a heartbeat from either,” he said.
“Well, I’m not referring to hearing it,” she said.
“I think I’m beginning to follow what you’re insinuating,” he said.
Kera went to the left tunnel and set both of her palms flush against the rock. “I-I don’t feel anything I don’t think.” Then, she let the side of her face press against the dry, cool rock.