Aedre's Firesnake

by Rayner Ye

  She crawled on her hands and knees towards the drone. “Kill me too.”

  She touched it. Hard. It flew to the ceiling.

  She curled up on her bed, squeezed her pillow, and cried. “Mum? When will this pain go? Will it ever end?”

  Grief

  Sitting in the corner of her room, head between her knees, Aedre ran her fingertips over the rough floor. Why did that mobster kill her friends? They’d kept his promise, hadn’t they?

  Nausea churned her stomach, and she whined. Anyone else would be so happy to be free from captivity. She’d entered a worse nightmare in this tropical paradise—a nightmare of the mind and heart.

  A quavering chant rose from her host family’s central garden. She sniffed back tears. Dust twinkled in shafts of daylight, threads of light piercing darkness.

  Someone tapped on her door. Aedre hugged her knees and groaned.

  The door swung open, and light flooded into her room, framing Gus’s slender silhouette. Arms akimbo, he stood on her veranda. “You need to get yourself together. You can't sit on the floor all day. Let’s go for a walk.”

  “No, thanks.”

  She shuffled backwards against a wooden wall when he took a few steps forward. Matted hair covered her face as she turned from his gaze.

  He came closer, knelt, and placed a hand on her thin arm. “Please. Let's take a walk. The air in here stinks. You haven't opened your window in a week.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Okay.”

  They walked out to her veranda, and she covered her eyes. After staying in her room all week, she would’ve starved had not her Giokese host family continued to leave meals outside her door each day.

  Gus led her into the family’s garden. Two young girls and their mother tended an altar. They wore yellow and black batik sarongs, and their brown and black striped hair was wound into elaborate buns. The girls passed cakes, fruit, and hand-made offerings to their mother, who placed them on a table below a stone statue of their Indite Bee Goddess.

  They glanced at Aedre, then looked down as if ashamed. If their skin colour wasn’t red, their blushed cheeks might have been visible. They lowered their voices.

  “Come on,” Gus whispered. He steered Aedre along a narrow path and through an arch between high walls. “This village is called Kos.” He raised an open hand. “It’s humble, but its occupants are good people. We have a happy community.”

  All buildings were encased in red-brick walls. Gardens, family temples, altars, and homes filled each compound.

  How could so much happen to her in one single week? Freedom met by realisation a gangster’s drone had murdered her friends.

  Banana and coconut trees lined sun-bleached streets. Colourful orchids grew from crevices and clung to walls. Small motorbikes roared past children walking to school dressed in green and white uniforms. Young girls with pigtails skipped and giggled, and boys ran and shouted.

  Gus released her arm. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me. A walk and a breath of fresh air are good for you.”

  “I would enjoy it in different circumstances.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll adjust soon. You need time.”

  She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “Grief and guilt are killing me. Death would be an easy way out.”

  “You still have people who love you.”

  She shrugged. “My dad probably still thinks I’m dead. This stupid country’s too uncivilised to have airSpheres. If I can’t even tell him I’m alive, I might as well kill myself.”

  “You told me you’d sent his colleague a message.”

  “That was ages ago. Who knows what state my dad’s in now?” Tears ran down her cheeks as she gazed at silk wrapped around tree trunks and incense smoke rising from shrines under their branches. “I don’t even know if he received my message. Being insane, he probably didn’t understand it, anyway. I don’t know what condition he’s in.”

  She looked at Gus and gritted her teeth. Why was he smiling?

  His arm brushed against hers. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably at home waiting for your return. Listen, I’ll get you booked into an Air Dome, but I warn you, its waiting list could be more than a Nerthus year.”

  Would she ever return to Nerthus? It seemed she’d never see Dad or Soozan again. How did Gus and his manager know about the mosquito drone? Were they her enemies too? Did they kill her friends as well?

  “You even have your own Giokese family,” Gus said. “Life couldn't get much better. When you’re feeling well again, you can get to know them. Maybe, they’ll teach you some Indite mantras to add to your union practice.”

  She sighed and lowered her head. She hadn’t practised union all week, even with all the free time she’d had. With her loved ones dead and Dad in a mental asylum, how would union help?

  They walked past stalls. Local street vendors eyed her, whispered to companions, and pointed. The word Noctar drifted to her ears more than once. Gus gripped her forearm. “Ignore them.” He whipped his head around and glared at them.

  As they walked on, questions reeled in her mind, and pain in her head increased. How did Gus know about the drone? Did he know that hairy gangster with gold teeth? Did his manager know the gangster too? Was that why she was here? She couldn’t say anything. The drone kept watching.

  Gus stopped and pointed at nearby treetops. “This is Monkey Forest, famous amongst tourists.”

  Birdsong and monkey chatter surrounded her. Sweet fragrances from flowers and trees and the gurgle of a nearby river only added to her emptiness. Her heart closed to beauty. She leaned over, nausea swirling in her gut. “I wanna go back.”

  “But we’ve hardly walked—”

  “Please!”

  He escorted her back, then hovered on her veranda. “Want a takeout?”

  “No. Please, can you leave me?”

  “Okay. I’ll come tomorrow.”

  She unlocked her door and entered her bedroom. Her bed linen had been changed and atop it lay rose petals, arranged in the shape of a heart. Her wooden shutters now open, invited incense from the garden’s altar to fill her room with an earthy fragrance.

  She should smile but instead fell to her knees in tears.

  Her friend’s corpses haunted her. Pale and bloated, foam bubbling from their gaping mouths. She’d never forget that man who murdered them, nor his cage of tormented naked women. The man she’d given her life savings to. The mass murderer who poisoned his victims with drones like the one following her for over a year.

  She’d bring him to justice if his drone stopped stalking her.

  That night, she lay in bed. Only the hope for Dad’s recovery and the gold-toothed gangster behind bars stopped her from wishing herself dead. What his name? Did he own a mafia? It took a long time to fall asleep.

  She travelled through a valley surrounded by mountains. The wind stirred, and Sharr Shuvuu landed five metres away. Aedre stepped back. Tears of blood streamed down Sharr Shuvuu’s face. Her spirit guide turned away so Aedre could only see her folded wings above slender ankles and feet. When Aedre approached her, Sharr Shuvuu faded.

  Aedre ran. “Sharr!”

  Sharr Shuvuu’s body solidified again as her speckled feathers intensified in colour. She turned to face Aedre. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Listen. You must become the saviour of slaves. Go to the—”

  A force pulled Aedre’s body backwards. Silence filled her ears. She floated high above the landscape, then appeared in an ancient city with sandstone arches and cobbled roads.

  Many dreams later, she awoke, her bed linen soaked with sweat. She grabbed her torch and went outside. A waning moon revealed a garden of shadows beneath.

  Sharr Shuvuu had said she must go back. Where?

  She took a deep breath. To be a saviour of slaves likely meant returning to the labour camp. She had to mine the Shard of Swords again. Yes, the captives needed her and staying here was a waste of time.

  The next day, she picked t
hrough her knotted hair and showered, leaving her curls to bounce back as they dried. She dressed in a new orange and purple sarong, a gift from her hostess.

  When Gus came, he stood in awe as he looked around at her bright room. His gaze fell on her, and his eyes curled up like a contented cat. “You look… You look beautiful. You seem better today.”

  Though uncertain, she stood tall. “I know what to do. I need to return to the labour camp.”

  “No. Why? You’ll be mining again. It's dangerous.” He went to touch her face but stopped midair. “The manager won’t let you. You’re special.”

  “He can’t make me stay. I want to help other captives. I don’t get what’s going on.”

  “We’ll visit him tonight.”

  ***

  The next day, Gus banged on her door. “Pack your things. I’m taking you back.”

  She flung open the door. “To the labour camp?”

  “Yep. You still wanna go?”

  “Yes. But I thought the manager wanted to see me first.”

  “He said if you don’t know a good thing when you see it, that’s your choice.”

  ***

  The next morning, Aedre waited at the bus stop with other captives. Nobody seemed surprised at her return.

  When their bus came, its doors opened to reveal the guard she’d asked about practising union. She smiled, but he looked at his feet, not even asking why she’d returned.

  After a day working in the depths of the volcanic crust, she was as exhausting as the first day in the Shard of Swords. When their shift ended, she taught union on a dusty road, surrounded by silence and lamplight. Although a few of her students smiled and nodded, most scowled and shook their heads.

  Afterwards, a woman poked her shoulder while they stood in line for the bus. “I heard you chose to come back. How could you throw away your freedom?”

  “I wanted to help you through union.”

  “You let us down. We thought there was hope. We were happy for you. Happy you’d got out. Now, what hope do we have?”

  “But I can make you stronger.”

  “While you rot away? Looked in a mirror while you were gone? Look at you. You're so skinny. What happened to you?”

  “I received bad news. It doesn't matter. I can help you.”

  “Ain't much good helping us if you can't help yourself.”

  Aedre flushed and climbed aboard the bus, choosing a seat at the back. Luckily the woman didn't follow.

  Could she do more harm than good if there was no longer light in her heart? Helping others might bring it back and help her forget.

  Saviour of Slaves

  A half-moon and crescent moon rested in the black sky over the valley.

  On the mountain’s ledge, twenty captives lay on their backs upon deer-skin rugs. Translation devices plugged into their ears, they listened to Aedre talk them through a relaxation.

  Aedre sat in a crossed leg position in front. “Allow your breathing to come naturally. On every exhalation, relax, so you become heavier. As you breathe in, focus on every part of your body, touching your rug. When you breathe out, release those points and relax those body-parts into the ground.”

  After they had finished giving thanks to Mother Kuanja and Father Sky, they assembled onto the bus. Before boarding, Aedre approached the guard, Miko. He nodded, smirked, and gazed over her head, still standing to attention, gun pointed up.

  She flushed as she looked up at him. “Thank you for talking to the manager. Doing union here is much better than the dusty road.”

  “Union’s sacred in our religion. It’s wrong to practice it in such a dirty place without a mat.” His eyes twinkled. “You like it here?”

  “Yes, very much.”

  She stepped onto the bus and stopped briefly to look at him. “Well, thank you so much for your help. I truly mean it.”

  He took a step forward and whispered in her ear. “When the manager invites you to his home, we’ll keep your drone out.”

  She drew back. “Oh.”

  “Since you've been teaching union, our captives’ productivity has increased, and the death toll has decreased.” He stepped back, face serious. “This is an excellent thing.”

  She frowned. “Helping is my calling.”

  At home, she practised union in darkness, under the drone’s watchful eyes. During relaxation, she journeyed to the Otherworld. It had been too long. Sharr would be proud she’d followed her advice. As Aedre exhaled, her body dropped into the depths of Mother Kuanja. She crawled on her hands and knees out of her usual fox lair. “Sharr Shuvuu!”

  Sharr Shuvuu landed on the path with a frown etched on her brow. “I’ve been waiting for you. Why haven’t you come here for so long?”

  Aedre crossed her arms at Sharr’s angry tone. Why did she have to answer to this owl-girl? “I've been mourning. Not only my mum but now my friends from Rajka. That gangster who has a drone tracking me murdered them.”

  “Gangster? Drone tracking you? Murder? See, you should’ve come to me sooner! I could’ve helped you!”

  Heat throbbed in Aedre’s head. Who did she think she was? How dare she shout at her!

  “You must listen to what I say—”

  “I did. You told me in my dream, remember? I'm teaching the captives union again. I’m a saviour of slaves. I knew it was wrong to leave them, anyway, so I came back to this labour camp.”

  “I didn’t mean that. You weren’t supposed to return there. You need to go to the village!”

  “This is the place for me. Fewer captives are dying through my teachings.”

  “That’s all good. But you're wrong. You didn't listen to me and left before I told you to go to Haunted River.”

  Aedre’s face fell. “Haunted River?”

  “Good. Are you listening to me now? Go there when it's raining. Use your aurashield’s waterproofing. Find a boulder or an island in the middle of Haunted River, or a bridge going over it. Water must surround you. Then you need to travel as you usually do.”

  “But—”

  “No, please, listen. This information is crucial. Put an amethyst in your pocket or wear one as jewellery. Make sure you have an amethyst on you. You have one?”

  “Yes. I have crystals of all kinds.”

  “Good. Something I must tell you now, though. You can get hurt travelling this way because your spirit body solidifies, no matter what form you take. If something or someone destroys you, your body on Haunted River will die too. Can you remember how to travel this way?”

  Aedre narrowed her eyes. “I think so.”

  “Repeat my instructions, so I know you understand.”

  Aedre’s face tightened. She glared at Sharr Shuvuu with tunnelled vision. “I won’t do it. I won’t go to your stupid Haunted River. I won’t wear my amethyst for you. I won’t leave this time. You told me to leave Nerthus too. Now my dad’s in a mental asylum. You told me not to go to Mayleeda. You took away my dream. I came here instead, and my friends died because of me.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I blame you!”

  Sharr Shuvuu’s expression darkened like the sky overhead. “I didn’t kill them.” She gazed at the roiling clouds and sighed. “Aedre, please don’t blame me. Please travel by river and rain. It's critical.”

  “For who?”

  “For humanity.”

  “I don’t get why journeying from a river with an amethyst crystal and—”

  “I don’t understand either, but that’s what I’ve been told to tell you!” Sharr Shuvuu covered her mouth and looked around her.

  Aedre shook her head. “I don’t care about prophecies anymore. I don’t trust you. I trust my own heart. Goodbye.”

  Aedre fell into her fox lair and drifted up to her room.

  Someone tapped on her door. “One minute. I'm coming.”

  She opened it to Miko, the guard. “The manager wants to meet you.”

  Every muscle went rigid. Aedre nodded and followed. Miko turn
ed on his heel when they reached the door of a bungalow.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll wait in the shadows. Knock.”

  She swallowed and tapped on the door.

  Gus opened it. Concern crossed his gaze as he peered at her thin slip. “Please, come in.” He stepped aside to let her pass.

  A shorter, mid-aged Native-Red gestured towards the sofa opposite him and sat. “Please, sit.”

  On his coffee table between them lay a bowl of fruit, snacks wrapped in woven palm leaf pouches, and a silver tea set.

  “I’m the manager of this labour camp. My name’s Somare.”

  “Hi, I’m Aedre.” She glanced at her bare feet, then scanned the room for her drone.

  “I know.” He leaned forward and pushed a few snacks towards her. “Please, help yourself. Have you eaten Inarmuzzan cookies before?”

  “Yes.” Her stomach grumbled as she took a leaf-pouch and unwound string holding it together.

  “Giokese cookies are better than Rajanakki ones.” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “A lot nicer than food my captives get, too, I suppose.”

  She shifted her angry glare to his face and nodded. It’s your fault we eat next to nothing. She placed the palm leaf pouch with its string on the table, and gazed at the white cube in her fingertips, then.popped it into her mouth. Within the rice cake’s centre, fermented banana and sugar caressed her tongue.

  Somare leaned back and rested his hand on the arm of the sofa. “Look, Aedre. I’m delighted with how things are going since you've been teaching union to the captives—”

  With an expanding feeling in her chest, she nodded. “Especially since teaching on the mountain’s ledge. The deer-skin rugs make the experience better.”

  “Good. This is tea from southern Giok.” He lifted the silver teapot and green liquid splashed into china cups. “Please.” He beckoned with an upturned palm for her to drink.

  “Thank you.” She picked lifted her cup with both hands and bowed, before draining it.