Aedre's Firesnake

by Rayner Ye

  “Please, please…sit, sit.” She offered Aedre a cup of green tea and a mandarin orange. “Me, YeLi. You who?”

  Aedre pointed to her nose, mimicking YeLi’s gesture. “Me, Aedre.”

  “Aedre. Yes, yes, good. Aedre, wait, yes?” YeLi half-bowed and shuffled backwards. Footsteps pitter-pattered along the corridor, then YeLi shouted for someone in Maozong.

  Minutes later, she returned with a short and wiry old man of Jerjen descent. He sat opposite Aedre and poured more tea into her cup, easing her anxieties. He bowed. “I’m Apek. What’s your name?”

  “Aedre.”

  “You want to learn feigong fight-dancing?”

  “Yes.”

  Apek explained the intricacies of it. “You like to exercise?” he asked.

  “Yes. I practice union every day.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “That’s good. Good energy work. You been practising for long?”

  “One hour per day.”

  “How many years?”

  “Three.”

  “I will teach you feigong if you teach my Jerjen congregation union.”

  “Yes. But when? I teach Mayleedian in a language school.”

  “Before work. At dawn.”

  “Yes.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “You teach once a week. We teach you four times a week.”

  “How much money shall I give you?” Aedre asked.

  “No, no. No money.” He took a mandarin from a wooden bowl. “We, Jerjen Feili. We help you. Make us happy. What’s your name?”

  “Aedre. And yours?”

  “Apek.”

  She agreed to arrive at sunrise the next day. Although her tummy and head still ached, her body felt light all the way home. She smiled at Apek’s kindness and how eager he was to teach her something he loved.

  Finally, her life might have a purpose.

  The holo-phone rang when she entered her house. “Hello?”

  The machine was on voice only. “Hi, Aedre. This is Bhaltair. I’m your new boss.” He spoke her native language, Enderlish, in a thick northern accent. She smiled at the familiarity.

  “I hear you’ve chosen to take today off today because you’re sick.” He gave no time for a response. “Well, I’m afraid that won’t do, and you need to get in here because we’re short.”

  She arrived at the teachers’ room to find Bhaltair waiting at her desk. He was a short man with a red pockmarked face and white hair. He frowned at her, shook his head, and dumped a pile of papers in her arms.

  “Mark these exam papers by noon tomorrow. At eleven there’ll be a two-hour lesson on the present tenses, followed by three more two-hour lessons. You’ll have ten minutes between each to prepare.”

  “But, but,” she stammered. “I haven’t planned for these. Usually, we teach two lessons per day—”

  He slammed his fist on a nearby desk. “That changes now! I’m not like your old boss. I’ll be running things my way now, you hear?”

  She shrank back and swallowed. Other teachers stopped and stared.

  After Bhaltair left, she vented her feelings to Mosh. “What an egotistical bastard.”

  “You telling me? That guy’s a maniac!”

  All night, she planned the next day’s lessons between visits to the bathroom. She feared her bowels would come out of her mouth as she retched over the toilet, thinking about the asshole who’d used her.

  Trouble

  After a long week of stomach upsets, overwork, and sore limbs from practising feigong fight dancing every morning before work, Aedre could have fun.

  She swigged a bottle of rice beer with her housemate, Mosh, at an open-fronted bar on Foreign Street. The barn-like venue had a dirty concrete floor. Tropical heat relaxed her muscles, and she swayed on her stool to the rhythm of the band.

  Scantily dressed women walked past, probably with hopes of being whisked away by rich foreign men. Boobs too big and hips too narrow, ladyboys stalked the pedestrianised street. Eyeing gullible women, sly gigolos showed off on the dance floor.

  Everyone was having a great time dancing to the Inarmuzzan rock band, as they eyed potential mates, flirted, and chatted with friends. Aedre laughed when Mosh impersonated teachers and their new boss, Bhaltair.

  “Good news!” Mosh swigged his beer with a muscled arm. “Bhaltair’s gone on a business trip for two Nerthus weeks to North Kuanja. Guess who’s in charge?” He winked at a small group of giggling Native-Red women on the dance floor.

  “Who?”

  He pointed to himself. “You’re looking at him.”

  “Great. Does that mean you won’t treat us like factory line workers?”

  He drained his beer and waved the glass at a casually dressed waiter for a refill. Aedre pushed her empty glass forward. The waiter brought a jug over and refilled both glasses.

  Mosh shook his head. “Sorry, can’t change that. He left strict instructions.”

  He swivelled on his stool, looked at a woman in the group, and half-smiled. Laughter lines cut across his cheek as he waggled his eyebrows. She covered her mouth and squealed, twirling around to join her friends. The women laughed as they took turns glancing at him.

  “I won’t check your lesson plans. You can take it easy for the next two weeks.” He remained fixed on that woman.

  Aedre smirked and swigged her beer. “Good, I’ll have more time to practice union and feigong.”

  “Yeah.” He belched and patted his stomach. “I’m relieved to see that maniac go.”

  “I feel so embarrassed that Bhaltair’s from Enderland. He was so disgusting at the end of work yesterday. D’you know what he said to Robaz and me?”

  He shrugged.

  She leaned forward. “He said, ‘Hurry up, people! Let’s polish this off so I can go home and fuck my wife hard.’ Blunt or what?”

  He spat out beer and snorted. “Holy cow! That’s one sick dude.”

  “What a bastard. I hear his wife’s young enough to be his granddaughter.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “You haven’t met Nabi yet? She’s hot. Young, sweet, and friendly, too.” His eyes bugged. “When you see her, you’ll understand why he wanted to get home fast.”

  She gazed at a guitarist in the band. “Why’s he going to North Kuanja?”

  “Some business in Wang.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “A port city. South coast of Markaz.” He downed his beer and checked his phone. “Went there once for a visa run. Sweet place!”

  She nodded. “I was considering teaching in Markaz’s capital. High salary but no freedom.”

  “Ha! Ghani’s Skycity?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You should’ve gone there instead.”

  “Just glad to be away from Oxfire.”

  He placed his phone flat on a dry part of their table, and a three-inch-tall hologram of a petite woman appeared. Long zebra hair framed a heart-shaped face. “Look, Aedre. That’s Nabi, Bhaltair’s wife.”

  She tutted and shook her head. “She married that ass? He’s old enough to be her grandad! Don’t tell me—money.”

  “Listen.” He jumped off his stool. “Let’s take her out!”

  Her stomach turned. She didn’t want to make an effort with a stranger but relax. “Sure, why not?”

  It only took Nabi half an hour to show up. She wore tight jeans and a clingy T-shirt. She was a pretty little thing.

  Aedre crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Was her envy apparent? Slim waist, long, silky black and white hair, cherry wood skin. Even a queen would be jealous.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” Mosh jumped off his stool for an embrace. “Look who’s here.” They hugged, and Nabi looked around squirming and giggling as if self-conscious. She stepped back and pulled a long strand of hair from Mosh’s stubble.

  “Thanks for inviting me.” Her high-pitched voice was childlike. “I’m so happy you asked.” Nabi clapped her hands and hugged Mosh again, while Aedre picked at a cuticle.

  Nabi turned to A
edre and smiled, perfect teeth gleaming. “Aedre, hi. It’s so nice to meet you!”

  Climbing off her stool, she received Nabi’s hug with stiff shoulders.

  Nabi laughed. “Don’t be shy. I don’t bite, and I’m not a spy for you-know-who.”

  “Who?” Aedre asked.

  “Bhaltair, of course.”

  “Oh, yes.” Aedre laughed, and it came out strained. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”

  Fifteen minutes later, their taxi took them to a flashy club, where the latest beats shook the walls. They met some of Mosh’s friends. One of them had a bag of pills and passed them around.

  “Make you happy, very happy.” He smiled.

  Face burning, Aedre shifted on her feet. She hadn’t planned on this. She could put it in her pocket, then flush it down the toilet when an opportunity arose. But bad things happened to foreigners caught with illegal drugs. Everyone in the circle swallowed theirs, and all eyes were on her. She took it too.

  After some time, her breath deepened. Flickering lights, people dancing, music, and fragrances, all blended as time slowed to a heartbeat. Her tension melted, and her body drifted as she danced around, weaving her way through Jerjen’s and Native-Reds on the dance floor. She found Nabi, who hugged her. All her worries and grief washed out of her heart as she radiated warmth.

  How could she have judged Nabi in such a way? She didn’t know why she’d married Bhaltair, but this girl had love in her embrace. They entered an ambient lounge. Nabi lay on a feather-filled bag and gazed at a fluorescent wall hanging exhibiting a blue dragon entwined with a red one.

  “Are they fighting or fucking?” Nabi asked.

  Aedre laughed. “And I thought you were little miss innocent.”

  “Are they supposed to be moving?”

  Aedre took a few steps closer and tipped her head, red curls tumbling over a shoulder. She touched the picture. “Nope, only paint, not Biluglass.”

  Nabi sat up, then slumped again, sniggering into the feather-filled bag. “Biluglass? As if Inarmuzza would have anything like that.” She danced around people in the bar, then stood beside the DJ, suggesting the next number for the turntable. Aedre joined her. She’d never seen such ancient music mixing technology. She’d taken so much for granted about airSpheres and Biluglass in Nerthus.

  They chatted and danced all night, making friends along the way. Mosh became friendly with a long-legged woman, and the four of them returned to Aedre and Mosh’s home at dawn.

  Mosh’s new lady-friend opened a package wrapped in tin foil to reveal a chunk of Inarmuzzan leaf resin she’d bought in the ladies’ room at the nightclub. She broke off a piece for Nabi and Aedre, then followed Mosh upstairs. The girls stayed downstairs in the open living area.

  Aedre stiffened. “What if my neighbours smell it?”

  “Don’t worry,” Nabi said. “They’ll only think it’s Feili incense.”

  “But if the police caught us, we could go to prison.”

  Nabi sat on the sofa. “I used to smoke this stuff. Never had any trouble. You got something to burn it in?”

  “Wait a sec.” Aedre padded towards her bedroom. She grabbed her wooden pipe from a drawer. The feather which hung from the neck of the bowl stroked her hand. She returned and placed it on the coffee table with a clink, then sat and sighed. “I wish I had an aurashield.”

  “Those things are expensive.” Nabi crumbled resin into Aedre’s pipe, lit it and inhaled. She blew smoke out. Nice smell. “Why do you want an aurashield?”

  “You can make a chimney, so smoke drifts into the sky. No neighbours would smell it.”

  Nabi laughed. “Didn’t realise they could make chimneys, as well as everything else.”

  Aedre lent Nabi some loungewear and they each showered. After Aedre was freshly dressed, she entered the living area.

  Combing fingers through her wet hair, Nabi stood in the corner. Aedre’s clothes drowned Nabi’s small frame whereas they clung to Aedre’s chunky stomach, waist and thighs.

  “Don’t tell Bhaltair about me coming tonight,” Nabi said, then switched from Mayleedian into Aedre’s Enderlish. “He’ll start drinking again when he returns. I don’t wanna give him a reason to punish me.”

  Aedre sighed. “My dad drinks a lot too, but since Mum died, he’s been drinking more than ever.”

  “Your mum died? I’m so sorry.”

  The condolence, though heartfelt, made her gut sink. “Yes. It’s been hard. The spark left Dad when she died. My sister and I needed his strength, but he turned away emotionally and has never been the same. He doesn’t laugh anymore.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “That’s what everyone said. Loss isn’t the right word, though. A lost sock can be found again.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Can I ask when she died?” Nabi patted space beside her for Aedre to sit.

  She slumped and gazed at her bare feet. “Three and a half Nerthling years ago.”

  “How?”

  “A Maglev suction tube accident. She fell six hundred feet to her death.”

  She could see Mum falling into the forest and vanishing through trees. It was surreal, like watching a movie.

  Aedre stroked the scar between her eye and cheek. “When she slipped from my grasp, the broken edge of the tube cut my face.”

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ve tried telling Dad she’s waiting for us, but he doesn’t believe in an afterlife. Mum didn’t, either.” Her eyes burned with tears. “Sometimes I worry there’s nothing out there for her because she never believed.”

  Energy rushed from the base of her spine, and she sat straighter to cope with its force. The top of her head seemed to open as power fountained out and cascaded down her arms in electrical tingles.

  “Phew. This is strong.”

  Nabi watched and waited for Aedre to return from her high. “Do you believe in life after death?”

  “Yes.” Aedre went to the kitchen counter and opened a tea canister. “I’ve been practising astral projection for a few Nerthus years, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  She set the kettle on the stove. “A type of creative visualisation, it’s called journeying in Shamanism. Going to the Otherworld. Some call it the Underworld.”

  Nabi stood, mouth gaped and eyes round. “How stupid, Aedre! That stuff’s dangerous!”

  Usually, Aedre would keep her thoughts to herself to avoid upsetting others. But she was sick of the new-religion propaganda against the old.

  “Oh yeah, you’re a Bogan, aren’t you?” Aedre poured boiling water into their mugs. “I don’t usually talk about it because God-loving people call it black magic. This way of thinking’s been ingrained into modern culture.” She tipped some tea leaves into a mug and stirred.

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  “I know what I’m doing. Our spirit guardians have something to teach us. Some of the best inventors and musicians learned through them in dreams and meditation.”

  Nabi fetched milk from the fridge and put it on the counter next to their steaming mugs. “Keep it a secret. Inarmuzza's a Sattchi country. Bhaltair would report you for sure, and Rajka police would put you in prison for witchcraft.”

  Aedre scooped tea leaves out with a small sieve and tossed them in the bin. “And wearing purple gems and standing on their heads to pray is normal?”

  “I know. It’s the way they reach God, though. Bogans and Sattchis might hate one another, but both religions focus on one God.” Nabi poured milk into tea. “Shamanism and witchcraft are connected to lower vibrations—”

  “What a load of bollocks!” Aedra stomped over to a window and yanked its net curtains apart. The sky had lightened to a dirty grey.

  Nabi lifted her mug and sniffed its steam. “Can we agree to disagree?”

  “All right.” She returned to the kitchen and leaned on the counter.

  “I bet you still grieve, don’t you?”

  “
Every day. I grieved so much after her death that I stopped meditating, journeying, and practising Union. Everything I did seemed pointless, empty.” She focused on the curling steam as she reminisced. Individual water vapour drops danced and swirled, sending off an essence of bitter-fresh leaves. “I was scared of what had been sacred and worried that I’d only find darkness in connecting with the spirit. I blamed myself. I wondered if her death was her destiny and hated myself for wondering.”

  “How could a maglev accident be your fault?”

  “I know. That was then.”

  “Mosh told me you practice Union every sunrise before heading to a Feili temple.”

  “Yes.”

  Nabi rubbed Aedre’s shoulder. “I thought you would be a Feili, not a witch.”

  “I’m only me. I don’t call myself anything.”

  “Union’s Indite, but it’s still good. It must connect you to God.”

  “God and Goddess. Don’t forget our Mother.” Grief swelled up. Aedre’s eyes burned with hot tears again, and she cried.

  Nabi pulled her around and hugged her. “Let it out, let it all out.”

  “My dad keeps drinking. He won’t even let anyone mention Mum.”

  Nabi grabbed a few paper towels and passed them to Aedre to wipe her face. “Come on, let’s sit on the sofa.” Nabi took their tea and placed it on the coffee table. Aedre followed.

  They sat, and Nabi sighed. “I know what it’s like living with an alcoholic, but your dad didn’t hit you, did he?”

  “No, he never laid a finger on any of us.”

  Tears welled in Nabi’s eyes. “That’s good. Don’t be too harsh with him. He didn’t lose only his wife, but also the mother of his children.”

  “But he’s so selfish. After Mum’s funeral, he threw away all her possessions. She used to collect porcelain owls. They were her favourite animal. He threw those away, too.”

  Aedre wept. “You’d think it’d bring us closer together, but Mum’s death’s wedged an iceberg between us. He loves my sister and is so proud of her. He thinks I’m a failure.”

  Nabi pulled fingers through her black and white hair. “How long were you in cryosponge?”

  “A Nerthus year. It didn’t feel like a year. It felt like I awoke from a dreamless sleep.”