The Scarlet Cavern

by Michael Dalton

  The group grumbled amongst themselves, with the sorai leader smiling thinly at the rest of them.

  “You find Merindra to your liking?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “She is my granddaughter. A bit feisty, that one, but she will make you a fine wife.”

  “Send me more like her.”

  She nodded. I continued, bracing myself for the reaction I knew I would get.

  “Those I chose will remain with me. I will mate with all of them and father children. However, when a child comes, that wife and I will decide whether she returns to her clan. They will not return automatically, and if she stays, we will raise the child here.”

  All of them erupted in protest, yelling loudly over each other.

  “Impossible!” the talalong shouted.

  “You understand nothing!” the sorai shrieked. “That is not your decision!”

  “How can they remain? How can they raise these children here?” the dwenda yelled at me.

  “No tsulygoi has ever suggested such a thing!” the cunelo cried.

  “They’ll do it, or I’ll father nothing!” I yelled back at them. “That’s my condition, and it is not negotiable! In my world, males do not abandon their offspring. When the children come, you may send your teachers and mentors to assist in their upbringing. We will welcome them. But unless that wife wishes to leave, the children will remain here with me. ”

  They seemed taken aback at my outburst. Finally, the linyang spoke.

  “You ask much, Will of Hawthorne.”

  “I am giving much in return. Or would you prefer I disappear into the wilderness like the last makalang?”

  The others looked at her in confusion, but I saw in her eyes that she knew what I meant.

  There was silence for several long moments. And again, it was the linyang who spoke first.

  “I agree to this.”

  Two or three of the others gasped. But then the sorai spoke.

  “I agree as well. Here or elsewhere, we need the children.”

  The cunelo, talalong, and dwenda glanced at each other. Then the talalong narrowed her eyes at me.

  “I know the one of our clan you took as wife, makalang,” she said. “The one you took from from iXa’aliq. She is the child of one of my cousins. She would not follow you if your aims were false. On that basis, I agree to this as well.”

  The dwenda took a long breath and exhaled.

  “I do not know Ayarala, the dwenda you claimed. But I made contact with her mother. Ayarala’s situation was . . . unusual, as I assume you know. But her mother said something similar about her. Her heart is good and true. Therefore, I will agree to your condition, as much as it pains me to do so. We are the smallest clan and need these children as well.”

  That left the cunelo. The rest of us looked at her. From my experience with her people up to now, I expected her to fold quickly, but instead she stood and glowered back at us.

  “I do not believe this is wise. But I recognize I am outnumbered.” She looked up at me. “I, as well, know of the one of my clan you took as wife, makalang, the one called Eladra. She was meant to mate with another, and she chose to ignore the instructions of her elders. Among our people, this is a serious transgression. We cunelo have survived only by standing closely together. But sometimes, I suppose, we must be led by the passions of the young.”

  She lowered her head, sighed, and looked up again.

  “I agree. May Eladra prove a good and fertile wife for you, Will of Hawthorne. Whether or not her child ever returns to us.”

  ◆◆◆

  I sought out Yisaraq after the clan leaders left. I found her on the fifth floor, in aJia’jara’s garden. She looked up as I came in.

  “My tsulygoi.”

  “Who maintains this? Was it aJia’jara? I’m not much of a gardener myself.”

  “aJia’jara came here to calm his spirits at times. But I have maintained it, with help from some of the servants.”

  “Is this why you stayed?”

  She struggled with a response, before finally saying nothing.

  “I know you were aJia’jara’s . . . awasa-lina, Ayarala tells me the term for it is.” It meant mother-wife, essentially the first among wives. “That won’t continue. Ayarala will take over that role. But I will need to call on your experience and wisdom. My wives are smart and capable, but they are young.”

  “They are,” she replied.

  “So I’m glad you stayed.”

  She bowed her head ever so slightly.

  “Is that the only reason?” she asked.

  “The reason for what?”

  “You are glad I stayed.”

  “No. And you know that.”

  She straightened herself up before me. I stepped forward and brushed her cheek with the back of my hand.

  “I know you were outside the room when I was with the clan girls. Listening. Narilora told me. You were listening to the noises they made, wondering if you would make the same sounds. Because I told you I would take you the same way I took them.”

  Her eyes had closed and her breathing grew heavy. I stood there caressing her cheek.

  “That time is coming. Not yet, but soon. You will be a wife again, Yisaraq. Not just a gardener.”

  She sighed.

  “Yes, my tsulygoi.”

  ◆◆◆

  I began reading Silas’s journals that night. His handwriting was neat and precise, so I had little trouble understanding his story despite his somewhat archaic diction and spelling. The reason for that, as well as a threshold question I had – how and why he had arrived in Taitala with five blank notebooks – was answered quickly.

  Silas was a ship captain who served as a privateer based in Salem during the Revolutionary War. In 1777, he’d been granted a letter of marque and a privateer commission by the new American government. He used it to harass British shipping for several years, growing wealthy in the process after capturing a succession of merchant vessels.

  But in 1781, his father took ill and died, and he had to return to the family farm west of Lexington to conclude his father’s affairs with his sister and brother. On his trip back to Boston, having gathered supplies and sufficient funds for his return to sea, his horse was spooked by a snake and ran into the woods. Searching for it, he fell into a small cave just as I did and emerged in Taitala.

  This piqued my interest for several reasons, the first being that he had obviously entered through a different cave than I did. But how? I was considering a theory that I'd done something with my laser pointer to open the portal – or whatever it had been – to Taitala, but of course Silas would not have had a laser pointer. So what happened?

  The passage describing his fall into the cave gave me a possible answer.

  As I stood in the cavern, assessing my dire predicament, my eyes began to adjust to the relative darkness, and I did see that the walls were colored here and there with a reddish mineral, from which came a pleasing scarlet luminescence in the spots where a beam of sunlight struck them from above.

  Crystals. That was the common denominator. The laser pointer made everything in the cavern look green, except where it caused the crystals in the walls to light up. In red.

  Crystals were the centerpiece of so much on Taitala. Could they have formed some kind of conduit between the two worlds?

  I didn’t know, but it was something I intended to find out.

  I felt hands on my shoulders. Narilora and Merindra were there. My cat-girl settled into my lap while my fox-girl leaned against me, nuzzling my face. I set Silas’s journal down and reached for their heads. I’d discovered that Merindra liked having her ears scratched just as much as Narilora did.

  Narilora purred against my chest, while Merindra just moaned softly in my ear.

  “Are you coming to bed, Will?” Merindra asked as her tail swished against my back. “My tsulygoi. My body aches for you.”

  “In a moment. Meet me there.”

  They rose, slinki
ng out of the office with a long backward look at me. I returned the journal to the safe and followed them.

  ◆◆◆

  With all that had gone on since arriving in Taitala, and with matters settling down for the moment, I’d been sleeping later since taking over aJia’jara’s compound. I woke to find the bed empty except for Kisarat, who lay next to me. Ayarala and Eladra were lounging on a couch nearby, but the others were elsewhere.

  I rolled over and pulled Kisarat to me. We kissed, and she pressed her head against my chest. I played gently with her emerald hair, pulling the sleep-tangles out of it. But I felt something odd about her.

  She kissed me again.

  “Will. My beloved tsulygoi. There is something I must tell you.”

  “What?”

  She stared into my eyes.

  “I think I am with child.”

  My breath caught for a moment.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I have felt the changes in my body. I am not sure what else it could be.”

  I moved my hand down to her stomach. I closed my eyes, feeling our connection.

  And there it was. There was something else there. Another presence. A thing that felt like her, and like me.

  Oh my God.

  “You are.”

  “You can tell?”

  “Yes.”

  She let out a soft sob and hugged me tightly. I just held her for a few moments, stunned. Ayarala noticed and came over to the bed.

  “What is it?”

  Kisarat wiped her eyes and reached for her hand.

  “Ayarala, my awasa-late, I am with child.”

  Ayarala gasped, throwing her fist in front of her mouth. Her eyes swelled up, and she began gasping for breath.

  “I thought – I was waiting – I wasn’t sure –”

  My eyes bulged.

  “Are you . . .”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I think so. I wanted to wait a few days to tell you, to be sure.”

  I reached for her as I had for Kisarat. And I felt it again. A tiny Ayarala-and-Will thing inside her.

  “You are. You are too.”

  Ayarala sobbed and fell forward against us. They hugged each other and me, laughing.

  “Oh, awasa-late, we are so blessed,” Kisarat said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she replied. “You and our wonderful tsulygoi.”

  “The makalang,” Kisarat said.

  I held them tightly as they rocked back and forth, laughing and crying.

  But inside me was a storm of emotions, because I knew a great deal had just changed. They were the first two females I’d mated with on Taitala. Something told me this was only the start.

  ◆◆◆

  The story continues in The Black Sky: The Makalang Book 2

  Afterword

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